When the Screams Have Gone
by ayafangirl
Summary: Ciel promised Grell a day with Sebastian...somehow a single evening together escalates into a life-threatening battle that can either bring the red Reaper and black butler together...or destroy them both? SebbyxGrell
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: wow. i said i was going to post this months ago. well here's the first chapter of a much-delayed story. like SebbyxGrell? You've come to the right place! this fic will take place shortly after episodes 11 and 12 of the anime, but there's little allusion to it. please enjoy, it'll get better as it goes along I hope. :)_

_Disclaimer: i don't own kuroshitsuji...but i have a Will and Grell keychain! eeeee! Toboso Yana. yeah, she's awesome._

Ch. 1: Carve

Deep within the darkest halls of the Phantomhive mansion, a heavy door was securely shut and locked. Inside, the room was lit by the light of a lone candle and the whimper of a single individual carried across the room, unable to slip through the door. Pale fingers with long, sharpened nails scraped at the carpeted floor and warm, sticky fluid ran over hot, exposed skin.

"Ah…no more…it hurts," came the voice of the first figure in the room.

For the first time, a second voice could be heard with a smug and satisfied tone. "Ah ah aah, you agreed that I could have things my way."

"Which is convoluted since this was supposed to be done my way in the first place," snapped the first voice with sudden venom speaking of a quick temper.

The second to speak seemed unaffected by this and shrugged although the former couldn't see this movement. "Young Master gave you permission to have me all to yourself for a day. By that, all you really wanted was sex. That was obvious from the beginning due to your simple and filthy mind which shows me the true colors of Death Gods. I spent the day carrying out chores with you glued to my arm and you then refused to leave after dark. Even after my master went to bed, you clung to me expectantly. And so, I intend to give you what you desire but I said there were some conditions."

"To which I assented,"

"You did. And my first order of business was that we make things interesting. I want for all to know that while in this world serving as a butler, I made an impression on one chosen to do the bidding of God Himself."

To accentuate this, the demon known as Sebastian Michaelis twirled the small dagger he held in his right hand over the Reaper Grell Sutcliffe's bare back, carving an 'n' into the milky flesh. This brought on another whimper from the victim of the blade, and he turned to glare at the man he adored, catlike emerald orbs challenging dark-lashed burgundy ones.

"May I help you?" the demon asked with a sneer.

"This isn't what I had expected. And this also has little to do with what I want. You've had your fun. I helped the brat save his little fiancée, now follow his orders and give me my reward!"

"So demanding you are," sighed Sebastian, staring at the bloodied back of the Death God. Once Grell had been brought into his room, he had requested several of his own conditions be met before he give the redhead what he so desired. This had been done easily enough and long red overcoat (belonging to the late Madame Red), vest, and dress shirt had all been promptly removed. This had made the smaller man quite happy until he was forced to the ground roughly and he found the demon sitting on top of him straddling him, and carving into his flesh with a knife. "I would think that you would be honored to have my name forever etched into your body."

"From what my nervous system tells me," the Reaper answered bitterly, "you made your lettering lavish and detailed. I truly don't appreciate that, _Sebby_."

"Fair enough. I have heard your complaints and you already know mine although I don't find it necessary to voice them," he answered, gazing at his first name written in ruby across tense shoulder blades. "I'm not done yet. I'm going to add my last name, so be still a bit longer."

"No! Sebby, please, no more. Don't!" Anger dissipated to panic with amazing speed as seemed to be Grell's emotional normality.

"My my. I thought you Death Gods had a high tolerance for pain," there was no mercy as the dagger came down once more to begin carving an elaborately-designed 'M,' splitting layers of skin and severing hundreds of tiny blood vessels, inviting a new trickle of fluid to begin to run down and pool in the small of the redhead's back.

"And I thought a distinguished butler such as yourself would like to get this over with as quickly as possible," he responded through gritted teeth. "I may be immortal, but that doesn't mean this is a jolly good time for me."

"Immortal? That is within limitations, I hope."

"We Reapers can be killed, worry not," sheer sarcasm was the tone the sentence was built upon, but a tinge of hurt that had nothing to do with physical pain was evident in green eyes. Of course, this went unnoticed by Sebastian, who was nearing completion of his task.

"Very well. Now then, shall we do something a bit more interesting for the two of us?"

"By that you mean—?"

"First I need to make sure this doesn't stain the material of the carpet," the butler pointed out, referring to the blood. He first licked it off the tip of the dagger, making mental note as his tongue ran over the blade that he would have to avoid Grell's sharp teeth. Dropping the weapon, he licked the small pool of crimson and then worked up the god of death's back.

"O-oh, Sebby!"

Now it seemed as though the emotion of the moment was sheer ecstasy for Grell, and his shoulders rolled under the warm wet muscle of his object of blind affection. Deciding that no more blood would fall from the wounds in the smaller man's back, Sebastian pulled away and slowly rose from the Death God, grabbing his arm and forcing him up as well.

"The bed?"

Hopeful.

"The bed."

Commanding.

And so the bespectacled man nodded eagerly and allowed himself to be led to the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. It was perhaps a bit big for a butler alone to use, but the Phantomhive name always spoke of lavish wealth, and even the staff had what went beyond comfortable quarters. Do to Ciel's favoritism of his personal butler of course, Sebastian's could even be considered grand or just shy of luxurious.

"Now then…Grell," it was the first time he used the Reaper's name, "my final conditions are as follows: you do not use your teeth, your nails are sharper than I had imagined and therefore those too will not be used to excess. Your voice remains low and if you say anything I find in any way offensive, vile, bothersome, or generally displeasing, you will be either kicked out or gagged. Finally and obviously, I will be top. Understood?"

"Ooh how sexy you are when you give orders, Sebby!"

"I will assume that means you understand," he mused. And in a flash, he had shoved the redhead, sending him careening onto the bed, lunged after him. Grell hit the bed on his back roughly and was being pinned down and kissed fiercely before he could draw breath. He opened his eyes, two different voices in his mind speaking at once. The first, Love was predictable enough:

_Oh, yes! Touch me, Sebby! Make love to me so I can have your babies!_

The second voice was the one that he tended to ignore but that accounted for decades of Reaping souls and learning about the cold and dangerous consequences of Desire and Lust from viewing thousands of Cinematic Records. Yet somehow, he didn't want to accept the words of Logic:

_Look at him; all he wants is to befoul a sacred Reaper's body with those hands and lips. This is not what you dream of nor can it ever be. All you are doing is putting yourself at his mercy and simultaneously at great risk for harm._

"Mmmm…"

Giving in, he closed his eyes and pulled his lips over his teeth so Sebastian's tongue could invade his mouth while his hands worked on the belt around the Death God's narrow waist. The black-haired man smiled against the redhead's mouth, removing the belt and easily unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down so they could be kicked off. Just for a moment, he pulled back and smirked.

"I want you to look at me one last time, Grell Sutcliffe."

"And why is that, Sebastian?" for the first time, his actual name was used.

"Because when I have taken you, you will never be able to go back to what you are now. You can't take something like sex with a demon of Hell back and you need to realize that. I'm not warning you," he added with a shrug of indifference, "I'm simply making you aware that whatever virtue you Reapers have will be obliterated. I am about to taint you; do you comprehend?"

Grell considered this for a moment before answering. "I need only look into your cold eyes to see that there is no capacity for love. I accept this completely and am still willing to do this with you because I know we will both derive pleasure from it. You may be disgusted by me, but you still won't give up on the opportunity to stain a god with your evil. That is what makes you a demon and I understand. Finally," he blushed, reaching up to take the butler's left hand and peel off the white glove. Once off, he smiled at the mark of Contract on his hand and kissed it. "I love you. You have to deal with the fact that I'm never going to take that back. Right now, I want you to fuck me senseless so I can at least pretend you love me back."

This struck Sebastian as funny, and a deep, sinister chuckle rumbled in his throat. His white teeth glistened in the light of the candle, and his eyes sparkled with an orange tint. He leaned down slowly to stare intimidating into the feminine eyes of the Death God, but Grell only smiled and grabbed his tie, working against the knot and throwing it across the room in seconds. The black jacket the butler wore was shrugged off and soon his dark vest and white shirt followed. He sat up to pull his own pants off and the light blush of the bespectacled man's face deepened.

The raven-haired man shoved his fingers against the redhead's lips and he opened his mouth to dampen his fingers with a coating of saliva. His tongue danced across the three digits in his mouth and his sucked lightly, allowing them to slip out and making a small squeak as the first found its way between his legs and into his body.

"Remember what I said about keeping your voice down."

"I will, just hurry up already. Staring at your body is making me so impatient!"

The shrill response earned another ominous chortle, and a gasp from the addition of a second digit was coupled this time with a low groan at the feeling of the tight heat around his index and middle fingers.

"I won't ask you anything again, Grell," the candle flickered out, immersing two pale bodies in total darkness. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

And so began the first event in a series of battles, bloodshed, and progression. Grell's gasps and Sebastian's groans chorused a feral duet as unbeknownst to the two of them, one of Hell's gates opened and low incantations were muttered, sealing them shut behind the being whose lips moved over sharp white teeth.

_didja like? tell me if you loved or hated it, there will be character developement i swear! thank you very much for reading chapter one, more to come in time._

_tell me whether or not you want lemons...there's obviously potential but i haven't written any. you want some, ask. otherwise, it remains citrusy._

_finally, Merry Christmas! if you celebrate another holiday, I hope you have/had a happy one! ^^ hope to hear from you soon_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: thank you for all the amazing reviews! it made me so happy. there won't be lemons...or much SebxGrell in this chapter, but there will be in the next chapter ok? next chapter, things really pick up. until then, enjoy this and excuse the length between chapters, i swear i won't abandon the story although it takes a while to get each chapter out. thank you for your cooperation and support! :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Toboso Yana's Kuroshitsuji. But if I did, you'd get..._

Ch. 2: Regret

It was absolutely perfect. It had been unintentional, sure. He was willing to admit that. But still…who would have guessed it could be so insanely _perfect_? Grell lay in the messy bed sheets, watching Sebastian sleep. His sore body was completely relaxed and although the demon had pulled away from him as soon as he had finished climaxing, the Reaper had been allowed to stay and sleep in the bed (this was surprising, but Grell figured it was probably because for once the butler was simply too tired to fight him off). One hand stroked at his shoulder lightly, absentmindedly. His red hair was tangled and spread out all over the covers. And Sebastian was ethereal.

His ink-black hair was mussed and fell down around his forehead randomly. His porcelain skin was lit by the dawn's first rays of light and his exposed chest rose and fell as he breathed. Green eyes focused on his full, perfect lips. Those lips had danced over his own last night…

Just as a shudder ran down the Death God's spine with pleasure at the memory of the previous night, crimson eyes opened. Unexpectedly, his usual smirk of composure graced his face.

"And how are you doing this morning? Are you able to move?"

"Yes I am, Sebby. Worry not; I'm stronger than I look!" he answered readily although he had not yet tried to walk and wasn't looking forward to that extravaganza.

"Sit up, I want to see your back," was his next request. This surprised the redhead, but he obeyed, taking it as a good sign that the demon had not yet lost interest in him. He pulled his knee-length hair forward, wincing a little as he learned that some strands had been plastered against the dried blood of his scabbed back. A warm hand running over the lettering on his skin made this pain worth it though and he smiled. He let out a small noise of happiness and momentarily the hand pulled away, making him turn back to look at the man he loved.

"Will you stay here all morning and hold me in your arms, Sebby?"

"No," he responded calmly. "I must begin preparations for the day. Young Master has a very busy schedule today."

With that, he rose, gathering his clothes from the previous day and placing them on the edge of the bed. Grell watched, enamored as his nude body crossed the room and he gathered pants, a shirt and a jacket identical to the one he had worn. He turned back to look with bemusement at the redhead.

"Do you have intentions to stay there all day?"

Clutching the edges of the sheets, he looked down. "Um…well…no…I just felt as though…"

"As though what? I have things to do, Grell. You are normally vulgar and to the point, would you please refrain from hesitating now?"

By now, Sebastian had stridden over and he gazed with some annoyance at the Reaper. The room was silent, save the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Almost without thinking, he smaller man reached back to stroke his recently-acquired wounds with reverence.

"I thought that if you had made such a big deal out of making me yours…you would want me around. I want to stay with Sebby! I love you; why can't you accept me?!" A sudden rage became apparent and he jerked his head up to glare at a surprised butler. In retaliation, the 'smirk of composure' (as Grell had mentally dubbed the grin the demon wore) washed over his face and he leaned close, unnaturally happy smile making the god of death sick.

"Why do you always assume things will work out as you wish for them to? You are a rash creature that defies the very principles and scruples upon which your kind are built. A human used you, other Death Gods seem to find you a hindrance, and now that I took everything you were worth, you still cling to me desperately." He watched as the redhead's face contorted in pain and anger as he unleashed his tirade, and to add insult to injury, he grabbed his jawbone roughly and pulled him in for a kiss. "You are pathetic. But I find you entertaining. If you come back at tonight, we can do this again."

Flabbergasted, Grell could only stutter. "E-excuse me? What makes you think I would come back after you tell me that? Do you think I am such a desperate woman that I will become your plaything just to please your deplorable needs?"

"No, I don't think you are," he answered, walking to the door. "I _know_ that you are. Tonight. Eleven. Now get out."

And the door swung shut, separating the two. Putting the entire fiasco behind him with a mental shrug, Sebastian adjusted his tie and made his way towards the main hall to wake the servants. Sitting in the dirtied, bed, Grell fumbled blindly for his glasses, pulling them on and blinking. There were no tears. After all, Sebastian was absolutely right. So he might as well try to become stronger. The day would be spent finding himself…and fighting the urge he knew he would have to return at eleven that night.

XXX

"Is the croissant to your liking? The tea served with it is Red Tea imported from Africa to take a break from your favorite Earl Grey." Sebastian bowed his head politely as he served a cup of steaming tea to his young master, Earl Ciel Phantomhive. The small child nodded thanks and immediately took a bite of his croissant, sipping the scalding tea to compare the way they complimented each other.

"On its own, this tea is a bit strange…but I like the strength, and the croissant balances it well." His cold blue eyes stared thoughtfully into the surface of the red liquid and he sipped again. Satisfied with his master's approval, the black butler turned to the three staff members waiting eagerly for orders to be given out.

"Bard, please go into town and purchase some pork for today. Tonight's dinner will be roast pork with gravy and roasted carrots and onions. There will be baked potatoes on the side."

"Alright, can do."

"Maylene, some of the guest rooms are getting a bit musty. If you would please open the windows to air them out. Also, beat the dust out of the curtains."

"Y-yes, Mr. Sebastian!"

"Finny, in the very back of the mansion gardens there are some young pea plants. It's a bit early, but some peas have begun to grow. Kindly and _carefully_ pick them. Be sure to be _careful_. Do you understand?"

"Sure, no problem, Mr. Sebastian!" He answered, aware that the same word had made its way into the request twice, but still not certain he could do it. Tiny little pea pods and his strength….He shuddered. Not a good combination.

"Oh, and Tanaka. You just rest and relax," the demon added as an after though (receiving a 'ho ho ho' of acquiescence).

The child continued his meal in silence, passing not one but two sideways glances at the demon, both of which seemed to go unnoticed. But the third glance was met with a grin. "May I ask if there is something on my face, Young Master?"

"No…" Ciel answered, tilting his head to the side slightly. "But you aren't one to daydream, Sebastian. Just what is on your mind that you are so quiet and distracted this morning?"  
A bit taken aback, the butler could only blink a few times before answering smoothly. "There is nothing on my mind. I am just planning how we will create a new layout in the gardens now that spring is finally arriving."

"I don't believe you," was the immediate answer. "Wasn't Grell Sutcliffe here yesterday?" He smirked as the butler's lips pulled down into a scowl. "Oh, that's right. And he hung around you all day. Did you finally kick him out? His voice was loud and annoying."

"Yes, Young Master."

"So then snap out of that daze. You have nothing to worry about. Now that you carried out your part of the deal we made, we can hope that he will simply disappear out of our lives. What time are my violin lessons?"

"Half past ten, Young Master." He responded instantly, but his master's words plagued him in the back of his mind. No, Grell would not disappear. He himself had impulsively made sure of that. But just why had he done so? He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to the night he had shared with the Death God. Warm legs wrapping around his back…hands stroking his chest and back…the way he said his name so lovingly….There was no denying that the redhead was a good lay. But that was all he was. It was simply out of luxury that he had slept in the bed afterwards, body alive from the physical pleasure he was not used to.

Serving the Young Master was a task he did not regret. It was interesting to watch the child forge some independence while his soul ripened to the sweetest of fruits for consumption. And to practice his powers without living to devour souls was a pleasant change. But providing he could keep his secret under wraps, he could use the Reaper to meet other desires he had. He pictured the bright, sharp-toothed smile and thick scarlet hair. His own personal toy…such a fool those gods of death could be. The butler smirked.

XXX

The door to William T. Spears's office was thrown open without knocking and an elder, angry-looking god of death with a strong build and muddy brown eyes stormed in. Composedly, William looked up with a questioning tone. "Yes, Mr. Scotts?"

"_This_ is part of your Sector. I request you keep it from Reaping souls not yet listed in the Death Book. This has been an issue in the past…I expect better of you." With an annoyed snarl, he shoved Grell forward roughly. The small Reaper collapsed to his knees, eyes distant.

Pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, the black-haired man nodded. "I apologize; I've been busy with Sector Three and Five's assignments. They were sent away to investigate a gathering of bodies and I've been doing their paperwork—"

"I don't need to hear your excuses. This one is a nuisance. Keep him out of my sight or your Sector will be down in personnel even more."

"I comprehend. I apologize again. Have a good day." He answered monotonously. The large Reaper left without answering, too annoyed with the extra work the redhead had caused for him. Seeing that for once the effeminate Death God wasn't babbling a thousand different excuses yet, William initiated conversation. "You caused quite a mess I would imagine, eh, Sutcliffe?"

"Yes."

There was an awkward pause. "…Sutcliffe?"

"Spears?"

Aware that something was up from decades of working with the 'nuisance,' he gathered several slips of paper off of his desk which would need to be filled out and sent to the heads of the United Kingdom Division in apology. He moved to kneel beside the redhead who hadn't made to rise since being thrown onto the floor in the middle of the office.

"Who did you kill?"

"I just happened to pass a park and there was an elderly couple, some loud children and some parents. Not many people and none of them were important."

"You know the next question already: what were you thinking?"

With a sigh of unease, Grell looked up into his superior's eyes, cat-like emeralds meeting almond-shaped ones. Much to his surprise, there was not the malice he had expected and this unanticipated notion—that perhaps just one person was at least willing to hear him out—broke him down.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he was clinging to the dark-haired Reaper, pouring out his entire story and anguish. The taller man tensed at the contact but was aware fighting was useless. He remained kneeling as black cotton gloves balled into fists against his chest and Grell spoke in short, gasping sentences. They were supposed to be secrets…acts of lust to shameful to ever be brought to light…but there was no helping it. Grell couldn't keep it all to himself.

"I hate him!"

"Then why did you deface yourself with his touch? A Reaper is supposed to know better than to fall for a demon's tricks." He answered calmly. There weren't tears, were there? He didn't want to stain his suit with Grell's tears.

"B-because…you don't understand, Will! Reaping has turned me into a twisted fool! Things like that…we have no control over! I longed for him! He took the pain of the mundane toil of immortality away for a moment."

No, it didn't sound as though there were tears. Good. "I cannot deny those claims, Grell. But," he pulled back and stood up, holding his hand out to help the other man up. "It doesn't change what you are. You may hate yourself for being immortal and having to bear such great responsibility. Things are especially hard since we are so understaffed. I can understand you wanting to find a release although I can't understand loving a demon. I won't tell anyone what went on. But listen…this doesn't change what you are. You are still a Reaper with a job to do."

"That's funny, Will," he spoke wryly, "Sebby said it would change what I was. Now you say it doesn't." He looked up, looking to be at a complete loss of sanity. "I don't know who to believe."

William placed the papers in his hands. "It doesn't matter who you chose to believe," he responded in the usual dreary tone. "Please fill these out, write a letter of reflection, and send them out as soon as possible. You know the drill."

"Why aren't you angry?" Grell was aware that it was time for him to leave; his superior had turned his back on him and returned to sit at his desk with a dull sigh. But the question was bothering him. As expected, he had received no comfort. But still…there had been no scolding as he had anticipated. It was odd. In a way, the ever sado-masochistic Reaper had wanted an icy glare and harsh words from his boss to snap him back into reality. William had failed him in the sense that he felt as lost as ever. But…he had had the nerve to tell the truth and still been accepted as a Death God. Just what else had Sebastian been wrong about?

"I have no control over your actions or emotions, Grell. To turn on you like a wolf on fresh meat right after you were dirtied by a demon…would be playing his game." Quite impressed by this logic, the redhead nodded eagerly and listened intently as the dark-haired man continued. "You were stupid. There is no denying that you are an idiot for falling into his hands and allowing him to do what he did to you. But perhaps it is to his liking to watch me kick you while you're down, no? He is, after all, a monster."

"He is," agreed the younger man. "I was fooled by a monster. I hate him for what he did to me."

"But you'd do it again in a heartbeat."

He had moved to the door and was going to leave. Now, he turned and gave William a dangerous smile, lethal teeth glinting in the light and pupils shrunk. "Yes, Will. I would." With a girly wave and a hollow giggle, he exited, glancing down at the paperwork he had to do. Once the door had been closed securely behind him, William breathed a sigh of relief to be alone in his office once again. An involuntary shiver crept up his spine and for a moment his green eyes shut tight. _That guy…is so twisted._ A Reaper feared nothing. But Grell was pretty unnerving to say at the least; even William T. Spears could not deny that.

_Sorry if it's a little short. The next chapter I post will include a short chapter to explain this story's version of how the Death God realm works. It's not going to be too long although it isn't part of the story, so please read it too! Reviews are much-appreciated!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hey everyone; sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I'm working on this story but college class-level midterms and birthdays, along with some history project thing and extraciricular music festivals don't seem to like Kuroshitsuji very much. Or maybe they're all just CielxSebby fans DX (no harm meant to CxS supporters! O.O")_

_Lemons ahead! If you don't mind, I'm putting a warning before and after they start for those who don't wish to read them. Thank you for your cooperation; just look for the bold print._

_Finally, starting at the end of this chapter, Reapers will begin to play an important role in the story. At the end of this chapter I'm posting another which is not part of the story, it's a long author's note. It contains an explanation of how their world works and some OC profiles. I know their world tends to vary from fic to fic and I want it to be clear for the reader. Sorry for being so chatty! Please enjoy chapter three!_

**_Disclaimer: Wah! I own volume one of Kuroshitsuji, but Toboso Yana-san still owns the series?! No fair! Yeah, not mine. T_T_**

Ch.3: Closer

It was a few minutes after eleven when Sebastian entered his bedroom that night. He was a bit worn out…somehow Finny's picking some pea pods had turned into chaos when he tripped and fell, spilling herbicide all over the plants and nearly destroying the entire backyard. Of course then Bard had thought it a good idea to use a flamethrower to burn the dead plants away…and everything caught fire….The demon sighed and cursed under his breath, slipping his jacket off and smiling as he sensed a presence outside. As he crossed the room to open his window, a figure leapt up three stories and landed on the windowsill.

Opening the window, he smiled most invitingly. "I had a feeling I would be seeing you, Grell." He stepped aside and allowed the redhead to hop in gracefully, landing with the lightest of thuds despite the high heels.

"Did you now?" He asked with a slightly intimidating expression. "How cute. Were you preparing yourself for me?" He winked and tossed his mane of crimson locks over his shoulder.

"Preparing?" He echoed, rolling his eyes at how vulgar the 'lady' could be. "No, in fact I was laying out the table for breakfast tomorrow. I like to get simple things done at night since I don't actually require sleep. Preparation is a necessity of the staff at the Phantomhive estate and I am, after all, one hell of a butler." At this comment, Grell gyrated slightly and giggled girlishly. The demon smirked; he knew the red butler loved hearing that line spoken.

"But, it does disappoint me that you were not preparing for my visit. I made sure I would be looking my best…for you."

The seductive whisper didn't do much for Sebastian, but he enjoyed watching the Reaper's lips move as he spoke anyway. He raised an eyebrow, inquiring as to what the redhead was implying. With a knowing smirk of his own, Grell allowed his long overcoat to fall to the floor. He began to remove his vest and shirt, but rather than taking the clothing off, he pulled it back off of one shoulder to reveal black lacy material hugging his skin tightly.

"You bought yourself some new clothes for your visit?"

"Only the best for Sebby." He answered with a nod and a nervous lick of his lips. "Does Sebby like it?"

"It's difficult to tell when I can only see your shoulder," the raven-haired man responded casually. "Perhaps if I could see the entire outfit then I could tell you what I thought of it." This answer was spoken with the usual casual tone, but the lustful tint in his eyes was less than docile. Considering this, the Reaper weighed his options. When Sebastian's true feelings were unleashed and lust coursed through his veins, pain became imminent. But when he spoke as though his master was in the room; as though he was no more than a humble butler, things just weren't as exciting.

The options were a no-brainer for Grell. "So when is the real Sebby going to come out and play?"

"Perhaps when you stop referring to me in third person. It most certainly is not cute, Grell."

His first name being used was a definite start, coupled with the fact that the black butler had now begun to rip the clothes off his body almost savagely helped too. They were certainly getting somewhere. Almost without thinking, the shorter man took the demon's face in his hands and pulled his face up so they were looking each other in the eyes. Sebastian's fingers did not stop removing the redhead's clothes, but there was patience (albeit limited patience) in those deep red eyes. Silently, sharp-nailed fingers pulled that flawless face down into a deep kiss. It started hopeful, begging the taller man to kiss back. As this unspoken request was complied to, the kiss morphed into a harsh and hungry endeavor to taste and get closer. Once Grell's shirt and vest were successfully removed, he was again thrown roughly onto the bed and this time made no attempt to pull himself back up and waited as the demon climbed on top of him only to continue the kiss.

At that, the Death God's heart throbbed, pressing against his ribcage and then rocketing back into his chest cavity. Sebastian _liked _kissing him; that much was clear. And for the moment, that was close enough to love. More and more layers of clothing were thrown off until Sebastian was left in his undergarments and Grell in the black lace lingerie he had worn over. The way the soft material wrapped around each of his upper arms and then tied several times over the curves of his torso perfectly accentuated his svelte figure. Satin cloth made up the lower part of the outfit. It clung against him, restricting some movement although he didn't seem to mind. It covered just enough skin to make it all the more tempting to peel back and traveled down his hips to wrap around his upper thighs with lace and satin ribbons (the ribbons, of course, were red). Below them his legs were bare.

"Is this what happens when you no longer have a mistress to tell you how to dress? You go out and purchase such suggestive clothing?" The demon queried, trying to sound less turned on than he was. This did not seem to work with the redhead.

**Sexy scene warning starts here ^-^**

"Does Sebby mean to tell me that he doesn't like my outfit…that I picked especially for him? Because the heat pouring off of your body and onto mine…mixed with that drool on the corner of your mouth says otherwise," he answered coolly, grinning like the Cheshire cat as his body arched upwards to brush against the taller man's. "I don't want you to be that little brat's servant when we are together. I want you to unleash what you truly are; I can handle it. I know that you like using me, getting that pleasure you demons thrive off and which has been denied to you for far too long now. So stop holding back! I want to see the Sebastian Michaelis that made me moan last night!" His eyes smoldering and teeth flashing as he spoke quickly, he dropped his head down on the bed to stare up at the dark-haired man.

"If you wanted that, all you had to do was ask, Reaper." He chuckled, one hand running down, then back up the Death God's pale leg and the other stroking the side of his face. This kind of tenderness seemed to heighten the thrill of being so close to the demon, Grell was more than willing to admit that. But he still wondered just how superficial it was. As a creature of Hell, Sebastian should not be displaying any affection, however slight it was. The previous night in fact they had hardly kissed at all; just groped, moved and moaned as the moon rose and fell once more in the sky. Now, they drew it out and the results were worth it. Did he feel that as well?

Canine teeth that were undoubtedly growing sharper grazed his neck and he glanced up to see the demon's eyes glowing red. Most likely, otherwise his self-restraint wouldn't be slackening so soon. Sebastian was a demon starved of what he loved most: death, destruction, carnage and weak human emotions which fed into chaos and corruption. When he was with Grell, he was allowed to once again experience the bliss of sin, but he was still the respectable butler of the Phantomhive earl…and considered himself to be superior to Death Gods. He enjoyed nothing more than driving the redhead wild while he himself remained perfectly composed.

_But not tonight_, Grell assured himself. _Wouldn't it be all the more lovely if we lost control of ourselves together? _

Sebastian sucked lightly against his jugular, just under his chin, one his favorite touches. "Ah! Se-sebas…nng.." The dark-haired man pulled back to look the smaller man in the eyes. Both of them were breathing a bit heavily already. Seeing only his favorite color in the eyes of his beloved monster, Grell once again forgot any plans he had made for the demon and raked his nails across the demon's back.

Painstakingly slowly, the burgundy-eyed man slipped his fingers underneath the lace around Grell's arms. "Do you want to hold onto this for future use?" he asked.

"Hm? I hadn't thought about that. I suppose so—"

Almost too quickly for the Reaper to take in, the dark-haired butler moved his hands over the redhead's chest and pulled them apart in different directions, shredding the soft fabric to bits and fully exposing his upper torso. "Ah. That's unfortunate then, isn't it?"

"Sebby!" True to his bipolar tendencies, Grell's aroused mind was clouded by rage and he slashed Sebastian across the face, pupils shrinking. "How dare you?! This was expensive; look what you did!"

Instantaneously, his wrists were both grabbed and forced together. Several drops of the demon's blood dripped down, landing on Grell's cheek as his hands were hoisted over his head and pinned against the mattress there. Lips moved against his ear, long teeth grazing the skin there. "You do not draw my blood, remember?" It was Hell ringing the bells of vengeance to him, and his heart began to pound not only with excitement, but with true fear. "I sense that you're nervous now. Good."

As the Death God thrashed uselessly, the rest of his clothing was removed, he gasped as more ripping sounds filled the room; the demon was deliberately tearing his clothes beyond recognition. "No! Please, Sebby, you don't need to…I…."

"Ah ah ahh…shhh. I also warned you previously to keep your voice down." There was a terrible smirk on his face that promised pain and punishment. A black-nailed hand found its way under the green-eyed man's knee and he could feel goose bumps break out over his entire body as teeth bit down on his neck hard enough to draw blood and his leg was forced back and laid over the dark-haired man's shoulder. Two fingers muffled his cries, forcing their way into his mouth. Those same fingers were pressed deep into him a moment later. And removed quickly.

"You can't be serious?"

"I thought you said you could handle me." Red eyes were glowing bright as the demon switched hands, securing Grell's wrists and his clean hand slowly stroked the Reaper's face. Since when had he started shaking? Something about this drew the demon in even closer. He wanted to feel the trembling skin under his own…to hear that pounding heartbeat rattle against his chest…to hear those breathy moans escape swollen lips…

With a feral snarl, Sebastian shifted his own hips and pushed deep into the Death God, who threw his head back to scream in agony. Thinking through the ecstasy that was now washing over him in hot waves, the taller man had the sense to clamp a hand over the smaller man's mouth before forcing himself farther into the frail body, and faster this time as well.

Grell continued to fight against the source of sudden pain, choking on the hand forcing his wails back and trying to kick at the back of the demon currently threatening to split him in two. He had hardly been prepared for such harsh play, and his muscles burned, ready to tear. Resisting seemed to be a futile route, but this pain went beyond the redhead's conception of 'rough play.' This was the repercussion to pay for splitting Sebastian's skin. Forcing his eyes open and to the face of his attacker, Grell felt a smile cross his face despite his torment. _And such a lovely color red is on you, Sebastian. Especially when it's your own blood._ The three scrapes across his cheek that he had caused (and which already appeared to be shrinking in size) glistened and matched the shade of his glowing eyes, which were the only source of light in the room.

Tears fell freely down the Reaper's face as time passed by slowly. His screams had died down to gasps and whimpers of pain. These, coupled with Sebastian's groans of pleasure and the sound of skin slamming into skin was the only noise that seemed to exist anywhere; the mansion was otherwise silent. The stream of tears falling down Grell's face ran across the side of Sebastian's hand, and he slowly dragged his eyes up to the redhead's face, his hips slowed their ruthless pace. His lips moved up from biting at the slender neck and shoulders to meet the Death God's.

"Perhaps this would be more entertaining if I could get you to beg for me as you did last night." He spoke tauntingly although his voice was husky from the effort he had exerted.

Out of the proud defiance Grell had always prided his very self-being with, he turned his nose up. "No, I'm quite fine as is, thank you."

Now the demon couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, how stubborn you are. But I insist." His hand wrapped around Grell's arousal. "You may not want to admit you're enjoying this, but as my toy," his trademark smirk sent a chill down the redhead's spine, "you will tell me how much you need me to do this to you, Grell Sutcliffe."

Pleasure could mix with pain all too well, it appeared; and Grell couldn't turn Sebastian's request down. "Ah! Yes, please!"

Interaction seemed to change the entire pace of the night, and suddenly it was a dream come true to the smaller man once again. Despite the pain that still shot up his spine, he rocked his hips into the demon and moaned wantonly, need evident in his eyes, which remained locked on Sebastian's.

As sweat matted the black-haired man's bangs against his forehead and his body began to shake slightly, he refused to break the intense gaze. Emerald on crimson, crimson on emerald, kissing and moaning into each others mouths, they came simultaneously. Grell arched into Sebastian as they muffled each other's cries. Shaking, he looked up into the dark-haired man's eyes for any sign that he was finished, the way he had looked the previous night.

**End warning here ^-^**

He met this expectant gaze, appearing not to know what to do himself. Slowly, he released his tight grip on first his wrists and then the small, torn body and lowered himself down to lay beside the Reaper.

"You look like you could use some sleep."

A shallow nod was his only response, so he laid his head down on the pillow and closed his eyes. He felt Grell settle down against him, muscles slowly relaxing and arms coming down to rest against the demon's chest. Silence fell as sleep overcame them both.

"I love you, Sebastian."

Four words that cut through the darkness like a knife. The addressed man opened his eyes and leaned up to look down at his 'toy.' "Still on that, are you?" he asked, leaning his head down to lick away the drying tear streaks on Grell's pale face. _What a stubborn creature. He really does defy the morals upon which his kind is based. All for me, a lowly demon. _He smiled tiredly. "You really are interesting at times." He pulled back, reconsidered, and kissed the god's swollen lips quickly, then resumed his position on the pillow, almost immediately falling asleep.

There had been no 'I love you too,' but Grell didn't fall asleep for a while, the feeling of that tender kiss remaining on his lips.

~*~

It was an unsettling mission although it was a routine one. Shaking his head unhappily, Ronald Knox leapt forward along the marsh with supernatural strength. He landed in the center, feet lightly touching the water of a puddle below him but his entire body hovering to prevent falling in; spiritual pressure was a wonderful thing at times. He looked around, amber orbs taking in his surroundings with disinterest. William had sent him to asses a report of a high concentration of dark energy in a dismal marsh in Western England.

"Why would anyone want to hang out here?" he asked himself.

"You lazy little brat! I come here to find you resting on the job!"

Turning his head and feeling even more disheartened, Ronald found himself sulking at Laurence Hunnter, one of the scariest dispatchers in his Division. "I'm not resting. There's nothing here, see?" He defended himself. "There isn't any spiritual pressure to assess, can't you tell? Either the message sent to Scotts was a hoax, or whatever was here left and went somewhere else."

After a pause and a glare from the bigger man, he nodded, admitting, "No…there is nothing here now. Bloody awful place to be anyway. It smells of something rotten!"

"That's what I thought. So why don't we go back to the Head Office, fill out a report stating this area is safe, and see if there's any spirits left from that party on Thursday, Laurie Boy?"

Hunnter didn't smile, but a sneer crossed his face. "Providing you don't ever call me that again, sounds like a plan, Knox."

Side by side, the two gods of death began to move in powerful bounds once again, eager to get back to their realm through an area with more of a concentration of living souls. Just before they got out of the marsh, Ronald turned, once again with a goofy grin on his face. The notion of getting home had put him once again in high spirits. "Hey, Hunnter, what do you think w—"

Before either man could react, a dark shadow fell over them and suddenly Hunnter was being thrown back into the gloom and shadows, and grunt of shock escaping his lips.

"What the hell?!" Suddenly sensing a huge amount of spirit energy around them, Ronald moved, prepared to materialize his scythe to fight. Unfortunately, he did not move quickly enough.

There was a wet ripping noise and suddenly one of Hunnter's limbs was hurtling in Ronald's direction. His hand flew up to cover his mouth and suppress a gasp of terror. There was a scream of pain from the bigger Death God and a flash as the being that had attacked them bore long sharp nails. With the cracking of bones and wet slapping, two halves of the Reaper's body were sent in opposite directions. Mindless of how weak it would leave him later, Ronald jumped up, focusing his energy on getting back to his realm. He let out a low groan of disgust at the vision still dancing before his eyes of his coworker being torn in half by that…that thing.

"Demon," he managed to whisper as his feet touched down in the Shinigami Realm. Taking off towards the office of Division One of the United Kingdom, it took him three stories to scale before he arrived in the office he wanted to be in. "Spears!"

The young god of death had thrown the door open so quickly that it sent a gust of air through the office. William looked up from his desk and his hand flew out to snatch several papers that were nearly blown onto the floor. His eyes narrowed considerably. He and the ever-loud, Grell-sympathizing party animal that was Ronald Knox saw eye-to-eye on very little. Nonetheless, his voice was collected as he answered. "What is it, Knox? You are a Dispatch member of Sector One; you shouldn't be here."

It was Ronald's natural instinct to respond that he could tell which Sector he belonged to, he had plenty of lovely young girls to tell him where to go _unlike _the raven-haired man, but for once he didn't have the wits about him. "H-Hunnter! Laurence Hunnter!" he gasped, rushing past the threshold to lean over William's desk and look him in the eyes with wild desperation.

A dark eyebrow rose. "Of your sector?" The older man took in the crazed look of the young Dispatch member and seemed to comprehend something traumatic had gone down.

"Yes. He's…he's dead! There was some thing! A demon is what it was! I was in some marsh searching for any abnormal activities…something had been reported. Just as the two of us were leaving, a monster came and tore him to bits before either of us had a chance to pull out our scythes! It was strong and oh god it was fast! Please—! What do we do?"

While he had spoken frantically, William had dropped his head back down to sign a few papers and put them in a folder. When finished, he pushed his glasses up with his pen and met Ronald's eyes once again. "A demon?" he queried. "You're certain?" There was a grave reluctance in his eyes.

Nodding slowly, he affirmed it. "There was no mistaking the speed and lethality. I've never faced one before…I didn't…know what to do…"

Rising and sighing, the older man shook his head. "Yes, I'm aware at how sheltered your work has been up until recently. In that case, I will go where you encountered the demon and bring reinforcements. I should have put two and two together…" he murmured the last part to himself and the younger man tilted his head to the side. After a moment, his superior collected his thoughts and moved around his desk quickly. "I must make some calls and alert several people immediately. Knox, kindly return to your own Sector."

"Y-yes, sir," he answered, stepping back towards the door.

"But may I inquire as to one thing?"

"Yeah…?"

"You are to respond to Scotts as he is the head of your Sector. Why did you come to me first? My office is farther away than his."

"I…I know from Boss Sutcliffe…that you are always rational. My superior, Scotts…he's a bit tougher. I knew if I went to him…he'd send me back to the marsh. I can't go back there and risk seeing that thing again!" His eyes widened at the thought as he spoke. "It'll kill me! It'll rip me up…I…"

A hand gripping his shoulder tightly suddenly snapped him back to reality. Cold green eyes were reading his own thoughtfully. "Then go and report Hunnter's death. Do not allow fear to deter you from your orders." With that he moved past the smaller Reaper silently. Ronald stood for a moment, thinking. He truly couldn't tell who was scarier…Scotts, who would have forced him back to face the monster he had encountered, or Spears who was kinder, but with eyes cold enough to chill Hell over.

_Uh-oh! Violence ahead, it appears! I hope the lemon was ok too // please review and tell me what you think. The next chapter is just an author's note you may wish to read to understand the Reaper world in this story. _

_Thank you for taking the time to read, and I promise I'll try and get chapters out a bit more frequently now. Until then! _


	4. Chapter 4 IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE

_Author's Note Chapter!_

_Hi, aya here just wanting to make some quick clarifications about the Reapers and their realm in this fandom._

_**Death Gods**: Reapers live in a parallel realm to Earth and are considered God's Black Angels. They do His bidding but are not pure and loved by God as angels are merely because they are created to do dirty work on Earth. That is: Reaping and cataloguing souls of the deceased and making the Divine Judgment by viewing Cinematic Records to decide whether or not a dying human deserves to live. Savvy?_

_**How Death Gods are Created**: There seems to be some dispute in fandoms here, so I'm saying that yes, Reapers can be born in their realm. These gods are generally regarded as the best kind of Reaper because of their pure bloodline. It is my belief that Undertaker is an example of a purebred Death God. He was born one and therefore Reaping has been his life for centuries._

_Death Gods like Grell, Knox, and Hunnter are Dispatchers because they were born on Earth and Reaped. They were preordained since birth to be reborn as Reapers upon death. Some racism exists between purebreds and human-born Reapers, and in this fandom a clear example is the hatred between William and my OC Scotts. _

_William himself is human-born but managed to work his way up to become a member of the Dispatch Management Division. Scotts, resentful that 'unpure blood' is working as his equal, tires nonstop to pick fights with William or provoke him by abusing Grell (It is said that a Dispatcher will always share a close bond with the one who Reaped them, as Scotts considers may be the case with Grell and William. The only thing William has ever really done to demonstrate any sort of consciousness to protect Grell was when he intervened with Sebastian's attempt to kill him. Said bond is still debatable however)._

_**Divisions**__:_

_Units of Death Gods live in certain assigned areas, known as Divisions. For example, the United Kingdom Division. This is broken up into Sectors, as in Sector Two (William's Sector) and Sector One (Scott's Sector). Don't let this type of Division be confused with the division between ranks. But…I don't think it's very confusing so don't worry! _

_Grell, along with other characters such as Ronald Knox and my OC Laurence Hunnter, are __**Dispatchers**__; low-ranking gods of death who live to Reap souls so they can be catalogued in their Overseers Death Books and eventually the Death God library. Generally, they may move up in rank. Reapers will always start their careers here; what they move up to is their own choice._

_**Overseers**__ are members of the Dispatch Management Division. These Reapers include William, Scotts, and other higher-ranking officials. (I would imagine Undertaker is even more powerful and high-ranking, but I can't conceive what his rank entails O.o)_

_Finally, character bios for OCs and also Knox, who doesn't seem to be clearly defined in any way in the manga._

_**Ronald **__**Knox**__:_

_Rank: Dispatcher (human-born)_

_Age: 19 (he has been serving the Death Gods for approximately 20 years, so he's actually 39, but won't ever age past 19)_

_Height: 5'10"_

_Eye-Color: Light brown_

_Hair-Color: Blondish silver_

_Death-Scythe: Lawn Mower…wtf, Toboso Yana?!_

_Reaped by: Scotts_

_Personality: Outgoing and fun-loving, but young and sheltered. Very impressionable, so it's probably not good that he likes hanging around with Grell so much. He calls him Boss Sutcliffe although they're the same rank. It's a combination of respect and lighthearted teasing._

_**Laurence **__**Hunnter**__:_

_Rank: Dispatcher (human-born)_

_Age: 37 (serving the Death Gods for 92 years)_

_Height: 6'2"_

_Eye-Color: Dark blue_

_Hair-Color: Brown_

_Death-scythe: Unknown_

_Reaped by: presumably Scotts or a Sector One Dispatcher_

_Personality: Probably a soldier as a human; not unfriendly but loves to fight and maim things. Can also be a bit strict._

_**Robert **__**Scotts**__:_

_Rank: Overseer (purebred)_

_Age: 253 _

_Height: 6'3"_

_Eye-color: Deep organge-brown_

_Hair-Color: Black with a reddish tint_

_Death Scythe: Designed similarly to William's, but rather than razor-sharp shears on the end, there is a dagger made up of three daggers folded together. When activated, they separate (imagine opening up a pyramid by splitting the triangles apart). Ouch._

_Personality: Cold, pugnacious, 'holier-than-thou' attitude. He treats his Dispatchers with not respect, and hates most members of Sector Two. _

_I don't really think Will needs one too…he's pretty well-developed in the manga and anime, I think. I apologize deeply for taking up some of your time and hope that this is clear and falls into place in the story. Thank you for reading this if you've gotten this far! See you in chapter four: Danger!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Yeah, I wanted to update faster. But family tragedies come up at random times and only now am I really able to give this attention again. I apologize for the dely, things will start to pick up now that Grell's about to learn some new information. I'll work hard on getting more out! Thank you for all those who reviewed/favorited/subscribed to this story so far!_

_Disclaimer: I hear Grell is working to get me legal ownership of Kuroshitsuji because then he and Sebastian could hook up. That's still probably not going to happen though. That Toboso Yana is stubborn! XD_

Ch. 4: Danger

Sebastian was about to move out of his room when Grell awoke. He winced inwardly at the sound of his stirring followed by an all-too predictable "Sebby…?" Turning, he smiled at the ragged Death God. His hair stood up at strange angles and his skin was still reddened along his chest and neck, where the sheets did not cover.

"Good morning and goodbye, Grell." He said calmly and commandingly.

"Huh? No! I just woke up! Stay and talk with me…be with me a little longer."

"No," he responded with a smirk. "Again, you have served your purpose and I now have chores to do. Please leave and return again tonight if you desire as I know you will."

There was displeasure in the redhead's face, but he reacted less frantically than the previous morning. "No. You see, I thought a lot yesterday and by the end of the day just couldn't wait any longer to see you again. As we have clearly established, that is because I love you. It is destiny, I believe, because those ruby eyes of yours match my hair…my blood…the color that I love so much, a deep, rich _red_—"

"As previously stated, I have things to do. If you have something to say then say it." Sebastian cut in with some annoyance.

"I am a toy to you, no?" Grell asked rhetorically. "You are currently bound to an obnoxious child and unable to unleash the passionate lust and hunger that defines who you truly are. But I give you a chance of unleashing some of that lust. Then I am of vital importance to you. Not exactly a lover, but an object of affection."

"Or desire. Affection is a hyperbole, Grell."

"Whatever you say, Sebby. But I noticed a difference between last night and the night prior. You were becoming adventurous. Did you not find that in making things less fast and furious and more sensual and intimate that you derived more pleasure from me, your beloved toy?"

Rather than respond, the demon raised a dark eyebrow. He hadn't the slightest idea where the Reaper was going with the conversation. He had honestly hoped that the smaller man would have been too stupid to notice the subtle changes in their evening spent together, but still didn't comprehend why it was a big deal.

"You're learning to love, Sebby." He beamed sweetly.

"Love?" This had to be, without any shadow of doubt, the downright stupidest thing the black butler had ever heard the effeminate man say before.

"Why of course! More than a desire to use me, you're finding a desire to keep me close…because you love me. It only makes sense since I love you so much. Oh, how beautiful that you have learned to return my affections, my Romeo!"

"Grell…don't talk like that. You're liable to make me sick to my stomach. I am a demon; I haven't the capacity to feel such a worthless emotion just as you shouldn't bother to. I will hurt you if you waste my time like this again."

"But Seb—"

The door slammed rather abruptly before his face. There was a strange sinking feeling within him. It hurt. "But…Sebastian…I do love you…why…?"

From the other side of the door, Sebastian stood, unable to move. Grell was stupid. There was nothing else to it. Because a demon did not love. Sighing, he made his way down the hall to prepare for breakfast. He didn't want Ciel getting suspicious.

XXX

_His name is Sebastian Michaelis. Powerful, manipulative, and deadly. He is one of us…_was_ one of us. Now he lives a life of servility waiting for a single child's soul to ripen before he devours it. But we do not have time to wait, you see. No, no. It has been made all too clear that we need him and we need him now. Sebastian…_

Heeled boots clicked softly on the dirt road she walked down, violet eyes looking around slowly from side to side. At any moment they might track her down…Needless to say her guard was up. Hopefully they wouldn't be able to find her though. Hopefully she had hidden her tracks well…killing that Reaper had just been too irresistible.

There would be more blood to be shed…

_I can kill the child Sebastian serves, perhaps. _She mused.

She was a demon, obviously. Her eyes were cold and seemed to glow. Her hair, which came down to her shoulders, was ink black and had a blue hue to it. Her canine teeth were sharp and glistened in the sunlight. She was also exceptionally beautiful. Her perfect skin and full red lips seemed to be an open invitation for anyone to come near. And yet it was impossible to predict what lurked behind that horrifically perfect face…what disgusting thoughts flashed through her mind as she grinned devilishly, remembering the iron scent as the large Reaper had been torn to bits before he could even fight back.

But there would be fights to come. _If their kind is to be wiped out…there will be stronger ones to fight. With Sebastian's help, of course._

She smirked. The plan was simple: find Sebastian, destroy the child he was bound to, and drag him back to Hell. There, he would be informed of several powerful demons' plans to rage a war with the Reapers who kept peace on Earth. The Division in London was the perfect place to start because they were understaffed and had a weak defense. A few Dispatch members, some Overseers, and a few heads of the various branches. With the Reapers dead—extinct hopefully—dropping down onto Earth and feasting on human souls would be the reward for valiant fighting.

"The time is approaching," she spoke out loud. She had learned the location of the Phantomhive mansion, and intended to pay a visit. "Ciel Phantomhive will die, and Sebastian Michaelis will help us wipe out the useless species plaguing our kind." She picked up speed, eager to meet the demon she had only ever heard stories about.

XXX

Grell returned to his realm feeling troubled. Sebastian's reaction had been about what he had expected, but he had felt so sure. Something had changed in Sebastian, but if it wasn't love, then what was it?

He rolled his green eyes, not at all in the mood to step into his superior's office to sign in and begin Reaping. At least a little revving of his scythe might take his mind of his social horrors. But as he knocked lightly and pulled the door open without waiting for a reply, it became quite clear that that would not be the case.

William stood in his way, apparently anticipating his entrance, and at once pulled him into the office forcefully and shoved him against a wall, eyes glowing with frustration and unrestrained fury.

"What have you done?" He snarled, voice low.

"What did I do this time?" Grell responded, hackles rising but confusion washing over his face.

"A Death God is dead, Sutcliffe! Dead by the hands of a demon! Laurence Hunnter was killed early this morning in Shropshire; Knox bore witness. Please, fill us in on details now." At once the redhead's eyes widened in shock and fear. "Why didn't you tell me the Phantomhive butler was unrestrained?"

There were other Reapers in the room, Ronald, a friend of Grell's, stood looking somber and his superior stood beside him, irate. Two other Reapers the redhead did not know by name stood, leaning back against his boss' desk. How much had William told them about his recent affairs? Immediately uncertainty gave way to an accusatory rage. One hand slapped William's away while his eyes narrowed.

"What did you tell them?" it was a dangerous whisper.

"That you are acquainted with the Phantomhive earl and have been in contact with his butler, keeping a close eye on him for me." Came the gritty response, daring him to question further.

Some relief washed through him at this, and he nodded, hoping his level expression could convey his thanks. "I've been keeping a close eye on Sebastian. He couldn't have killed anyone, I've been…around him."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?" asked a stone-faced woman, one of the two people he did not recognize.

"Um…" His mind whirled with panic. "Sure…" He grabbed William's wrist and moved rapidly, forcing him into the hallway and slamming the door shut. Before his superior could question him, he whispered frantically, "Will. I was with Sebastian this morning. There's no way he could have killed anyone. I would have known. I swear to you!"

Dark green eyes widened. "Are…you certain?" the edge had left the dark-haired man's voice and was replaced with dread.

"I wouldn't lie to you! Sebastian did not kill anyone. Are you sure it was a demon that killed Laurence—?"

Just then the door was thrown open by Scotts. "What the hell is the meaning of this? Is there a problem with that defective Dispatcher of yours, Spears?" His voice was a menacing growl, but the raven-haired man didn't turn to answer the question.

"No, Mr. Scotts. It appears we have a problem. Knox, kindly call the Head Office at once; tell them that it's an emergency and I need to speak with the Head of Defense now. Lady Sinclarie, kindly alert all sectors that a lockdown of the Library and of the Courts is declared immediately. Grell, I will be—"

The redhead flinched as Scotts grabbed his boss' shoulder roughly and spun him around, forcing their eyes to meet. He looked ready to kill while William remained placid albeit a bit impatient. "Who do you think you are, giving orders? What's going on?"

"My Dispatcher has just informed me that the demon I suspected of murdering Hunnter was at his master's mansion at the time of the attack. I was wrong and now we have an unknown demon to deal with. We must go into a state of emergency or we'll pay in more deaths. Before the balance of living and dead souls can be broken, we must act."

"Spears is right, Scotts," the woman, Sinclaire, commented dryly as she pushed past him to make her way down the hallway and follow his orders. "Before the humans realize something is up, let's keep our hats on and think rationally." Ronald followed her, silently scurrying past his boss and shadowing her down the hall.

"And your subordinate? His information can be trusted?" Scotts asked gruffly.

"He isn't lying." William assured, adjusting his glasses.

"How do you know the Phantomhive demon was there, eh? Tell us!"

The small Reaper blanched. Fortunately, William seemed to hate Scotts as much as he was beginning to, and intervened. "I already spoke with him, I assure you, he—"

Glaring, the larger Reaper knocked William aside to grab Grell by the neck. "Then talk! I wanna hear him say it myself! What's wrong, Defect? You only answer to Spears?" He snarled and hoisted the redhead up off his feet, shaking him slightly. Slowly, the fear that had been instilled in Grell began to dissipate and was replaced by anger. The desire to shred the man before him open with his scythe became overwhelming, and his limbs trembled as he tried to contain himself. Again, the green-eyed Death God came to his aid. With a slight click, a silver pair of sheers landed lightly on Scotts' shoulder. He turned to look in surprise at his fellow Sector leader, scythe in hand and tensed to attack.

"Set him down or else I'll be required to use force." He said calmly, black leather gloves sliding smoothly over the handle of his weapon.

Bright red heels clicked as they hit the floor once again, and Grell watched the two men stare each other down. Finally, the taller man gave in, turning from the black-haired Reaper with a sneer, glasses flashing in the light. "Fine. But you can't protect everyone in your Sector forever. A Defect will eventually be destroyed by its own incompetence."

"Thank you for the advice and warning, Scotts." Was the polite answer offered.

An awkward silence fell as William retracted his scythe and stood, staring at his equal's retreating back coldly and Grell stared in awe, feeling all anger leave and his heartbeat return to normal.

"…Thanks." He finally spoke.

"Honestly," the older man sighed, "a rogue demon in our area on top of having to look out for you and the rest of London…please try to put us in a less difficult spot next time." He turned slowly, reading Grell's look for a sincere reply. Sadly for him it never came.

"Wait…Will…if there's a demon here…that means—!"

He spun around and took off suddenly, fear in his eyes.

"Sutcliffe! Wait—Grell! Where are you going?!"

"Sorry, William. I promise to make all of this up to you. But right now, Sebastian is in danger!" He disappeared around a corner, leaving William to gape after him incredulously.

His heels slapped the hard floor, echoing along the empty hallways as Grell ran at top speed. _Please don't let me be too late! Sebastian!_

_Uh-oh! What will happen to Sebby? I don't know I should probably type more...reviews are my muse. Dontcha wanna be a muse today? All it takes is the click of a button! (Look down ;))_

_Hope to see you next chapter, and thank you for reading so far!_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry it's been a while, but here's chapter five! The Latin has really vague translations at the end if you want to know what our dear OC Decora is saying._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Toboso Yana's amazing Kuroshitsuji. I wish I did because then I'd be awesome too....:( lol_

Ch. 5: Broken

It was really impossible to focus on polishing the glass adorning the chandelier in the main entrance of the Phantomhive mansion. Normally, this was a task Sebastian would carry out quickly, easily hanging from the ceiling to reach it with his rag. But now, his mind was in other places and his hand moved restlessly, not doing a thorough job of polishing at all.

Grell was annoying him. With furrowed brows, he contemplated dropping the Reaper back out of his life. On the up side, he would be able to focus again on his butler duties. Ciel's narrowed eye on him was telling him that his lack of focus was showing. The mark of Contract stated quite simply that he must serve Ciel…to be one hell of a butler. But still…let go of the redhead he had easily raked in with sharp nails and a seductive smirk?

Grell was release. He was the only opportunity Sebastian had to recall what he truly was…and just because he was bound to the small blue-eyed child didn't mean he had much of an obligation to him. Did Grell mean much to him? A smirk met the demon's lips at the mere thought. Oh, no. The red god of death didn't mean anything to any one, his own kind included. But he was easy to take advantage of. That was a quality that made him important to keep around.

"Sebastian!" Ciel's voice rang out in the empty room.

"Young Master," he jumped down, flipping in midair and landing lightly on the ground before the boy. "Is it time for me to prepare you for violin lessons now?"

"No…" A sigle blue eye studied him intently. How unobservant for Sebastian not to have been keeping track of time. "Not for ten minutes still. I just came to demand to know why you haven't been yourself."

A terrible silence fell. Awkwardly, Sebastian smiled and spoke. "I am myself I have been serving you as the Phantomhive butler as always."

"No! Don't lie to me!" Ciel snapped, slate blue strands of hair bouncing around his soft-featured face. He was aware how dangerous dealing with the black butler was. Sebastian had never once given him reason to doubt his loyalty and be wary, but he was so…off. His work had been taking longer to accomplish and within the past few days, he had taken to pausing, burgundy eyes narrowing slightly on whatever work he was performing.

Ciel noted this, wondering whether or not his control over the Hell-bred monster was slipping. If so, was his soul at stake. The boy, young though he was, knew he should approach this with caution. If he was to ever accomplish his goal and get vengeance on those who destroyed his family, he would need the dark demon at his side. He searched the flawless face now, scrutinizing the smile he was being offered and the cool words issuing forth from the eerily-arched lips.

"Young Master? I have carried out all the usual—"

"What did you do? Or was it me?" he interrupted. "I need your servitude to be unwavering! Someone has interfered with that. Tell me who…or what."

Visions of smoky green eyes and red hair plastered against white skin by sweat flashed before the raven-haired man's mind's eye. He could hear Grell's voice…hushed and breathy…he could smell his sweat…taste his skin on his lips and tongue…heat pouring against his own hot body.

"…Nothing has interfered with the Contract, Young Master."

Ciel looked irate, panic beginning to wash through him internally. He tried to mask this by showing his servant anger although the demon sensed his inner terror.

_What will this child do without me? Such a sweet soul might be eaten before it is ripe…_

The thought was entertaining, but Sebastian had been working at the mansion and serving the boy far too long to give into the demonic urge he had to laugh at and exploit his nerves.

"That…that isn't true! Something has—"

Both of them suddenly became aware of the sound of fists pounding angrily on the doors of the mansion.

"We weren't expecting anyone today…" the earl murmured, looking confused at the desperation with which the visitor was seeking admittance into his home.

Sebastian strode to the door and opened it, dreading the response. He could sense that it was the red Reaper, and was well aware that everything was about to be ruined. Still, it would simply mean he would drop Grell in front of the boy, then continue life as a butler. _What a fool_, he thought with a sneer as his hand descended upon the doorknob. _If he wasn't so impulsive that he had to come during the day, I could have kept him around a bit longer. Now how will I pass my nights?_

He opened the door, awaiting the feeling of an effeminate body latching onto his own. Instead, he opened it to reveal Grell standing before him, fear evident in his eyes. He stood where he was even as Sebastian stood, almost expectantly.

"Sebby!"

"May I help you?" he asked dutifully. Ciel peeked over his shoulder and rushed forward to stand beside his servant.

"What is that filth doing here?"

"Listen to me, Sebby! You're in grave danger! There is a demon loose in England!"

Both child and butler looked surprised, all intentions of snapping at the redhead suddenly gone.

"Excuse me?" the dark-haired man asked.

"I'm not lying! One of my kind was killed! Will told me; the chances are that it's coming for you since you're a Bound demon, Sebby! You need to be prepared to escape."

"Sebastian?!" Ciel looked at his butler expectantly but for once, the demon didn't seem to know what to do. A demon? Come for him? That didn't seem possible…

But suddenly he sensed it.

Grell tensed and for the first time, the black butler saw that his chainsaw was out and ready to use. He turned towards the trees decorating the front of the manor with teeth bore. Something deep within him stirred, excited by the presence he could feel coming closer…closer.

Carnage. Blood and death. Deceit…weakness. Envy, hatred, gluttony. And lust. Powerful emotions suddenly overcame the butler, and his eyes grew dim as he became so very…hungry. His stomach was not empty…no, this feeling ran deeper, as though his very blood ran thin of a certain matter. A soul…a sweet, human soul to rip out of a warm body…

This feeling was maddening. His gloved hands trembled and his face paled even more so than usual as beads of perspiration appeared on his forehead. The world seemed to sway as his head spun, ebbing away at his sanity…he had to scream. To shred and mutilate just to alleviate the sudden pressure on his skull…!

"Well hello. Nice to meet you all."

The haze in his brain cleared and his eyes focused. Standing on the branch of one of the trees about thirty feet up was a woman. Like Sebastian himself, her features were too flawless to be human and her eyes glistened with an unsettling confidence. Her teeth shone bright and sharp as she pushed her shiny black hair over her shoulder.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Decora Obscurum. Like the name? Demons do not have given names so I chose it myself. You are indeed the man…the monster they call Sebastian Michaelis? Or have I confused you with another demon serving a child as a butler?" She giggled; the sound was like knives clinking together over one's neck: they sent shivers down Ciel's spine.

"I am but one hell of a butler," Sebastian composed himself enough to speak. "I live to serve the Phantomhive earl. May I ask your purpose?"

"Certainly," she answered tipping her head to one side. "I think you're just the man I need to help me right now. You see that thing standing before you?"

She motioned with her chin to the Death God. Sebastian looked into the eyes of the man before him, nodding. "Well you see, those are a nuisance. They protect the humans of this world so we may not feast on the bounty of souls that lies before us. They threaten our kind with death should we attempt to take a human's life for our own sustenance. What is more, they Reap the souls of already deceased humans just so they may place them on file, rather than allow us to eat them. The creature before you is a Reaper, and all Reapers are our enemy."

"I understand your reason for feeling so," he responded with a smile. "Now explain your reason for coming to me. I am a demon myself; you have told me already that you were previously aware of this. Do you require assistance or perhaps business from the Funtom Company? I am afraid we do not work in such a field as Reaper extermination."

All three listeners seemed impressed with his composure and wry comment, but after a moment, Decora frowned. "I'm not here to joke around with you, Sebastian Michaelis. I'm here to help you. And once I do that, you will help us in return."

"U..us?" Ciel questioned.

"Our kind. A war is brewing, Sebastian. All demons will destroy the filth that is Death Gods!"

Grell gasped softly but didn't move; waiting to see how the man he adored would react instead. Sebastian touched his chin lightly in thought. "Hm…no thank you. I believe my expertise are needed here more than anywhere else. Thank you anyway and I wish you luck with your plan to overthrow the Death Gods." He waved casually and began to usher the boy away with one hand, turning but keeping his gaze on her.

She looked a bit perplexed for a moment, then glared. "Sorry, Sebastian. That wasn't part of the plan. Like a streak of lightning, she leapt down, heading straight for the black butler. With a metallic scream from his scythe, Grell swung at her as she came close, but she moved past him easily and grabbed not Sebastian (who had leapt back in anticipation), but Ciel.

"No! Young Master!"

"Seba—"

It was too late. Violet eyes glowing, Decora began to murmur, hand pulling his eye patch off.

_Nisi Hell…_

_Sino caedes_

_Sino malum_

_Sino Nex_

_I will destroy this Contract!_

As she murmured, Sebastian froze, looking at his master blankly. Dropping the child after a few moments nonchalantly, she turned to smile at him. "Let's see how that worked out," she suggested in a musing tone, grabbing his left hand, she pulled the glove off just as the blue-eyed child boy reached up to tug off his eyepatch. Simultaneously, two pieces of fabric hit the white marble floor.

A twin set of wide cerulean eyes grew even bigger, beholding the sigh of the demon's bare, unmarked hand.

"Se-Sebastian?!"

"See what I have done for you?" she purred. "I have broken that bond that restrained who you truly are. You're free from this child, from this soul. Now make it up to me by offering your assistance. Don't you want to enjoy the taste of carnage once again?"

A smile crept across his face slowly and his eyes began to glow with a lethality he usually saved for the most dire of times. "Oh, yes. I would love to come with you and help you, Decora."

"How excellent," she grinned. "But I'm sure you are quite weak from having your strength suppressed for so long. I'll go alert some friends that you're on our side. In the meantime," her violet eyes fell on Ciel. "Have a bite to eat." They shifted to the appalled redhead. "Bring back the rush of murder. I'll be back and we'll go to London together. The Death Gods will fall and humans will bow before their new masters!" With that, she turned and took off, Sebastian's cold chuckle echoing in her wake as he watched her depart.

"N-no! Get back here!" Grell snapped back into action and rushed out of the mansion, weapon drawn. He didn't make it far. A powerful arm interlocked with his and he cried out in pain as his scythe was knocked out of his grip forcefully. It landed a few feet away and he turned, rubbing a bruised forearm to glare.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to run away my dear Reaper," the demon teased, smirking at him. "A child is easy enough to pursuer, but it's much more exciting to fight for a kill."

"Sebby?! No! You wouldn't!" He blanched. "What about everything I've sacrificed for you?"

"That was your own foolish mistake," he respond with a shrug.

Ciel stood in the doorway, fists clenched. "Enough! Sebastian, I order you to stop! This is shameful behavior!"

The raven-haired man turned to grin, hands gripping the Death God's upper arms. "Earl Phantomhive, I do apologize…but I don't take orders anymore." His grip tightened on Grell's arms until he was sure his bones would snap. He thrashed and screamed as ruby eyes glowed brighter and brighter. There was no cognizance left behind them; only feral need to destroy. Teeth gnashed and black feathers began to drift around the two, blocking out sunlight slowly but surely and encasing them in darkness.

_I'm going to die._

The redhead went limp in his attacker's arms. He sensed a blow was imminent, but chose not to gratify the demon by fighting back. There was a slashing nose and the sound blood dripping onto the dirt.

Tentatively, the Reaper opened one eye to find himself starting right at silver shears that dripped crimson liquid.

Sebastian looked in shock for a moment at the weapon piercing his shoulder, and a smile of excitement mixed with pain warped his features as he turned. "Now things get fun, he murmured, yanking the metallic weapon from his shoulder to face the attacker standing on the roof of the Phantomhive mansion.

"In the name of the Dispatch Management Division and of the United Kingdom Division of Reapers, you are ordered to release my Dispatcher and stop all actions, demon."

It was déjà vu for Grell as he blinked up at William. Hadn't he been rescued from the very same demon by the very same Sector leader before? William's green eyes were locked on Sebastian's, unwavering and determined.

"Christ, Will….you always manage to—"

Those cold eyes snapped to his own and he shuddered involuntarily. "Sutcliffe. You're insolence may cost you your life, if not your job. The only reason I have bothered to save you just now is because I need information only you are capable of providing." His tone was cold; he was clearly well beyond the end of his rope. "Grell Sutcliffe, from this point on, you will obey me if you don't want to lose everything you have left. I'm taking care of this demon myself," he motioned to Sebastian, who laughed a bit at the thought. "And then we're heading back to our realm. That is all there is to it."

Shock for how quickly things were turning was making Grell irrational as ever. Despite the fact that moments ago, Sebastian had tried to kill him, his loyalty to the demon was as strong as ever. He set his jaw. "You can't kill Sebby! You can do anything, Will. So help me save him!" he looked imploringly to his irate superior, finding no sympathy. Sebastian only watched, amused. He seemed to be contemplating which Death God he should kill first. Deciding the loud redhead was closer, he raised a hand, grinning as his nails grew and sharpened. The gods continued to argue and he paused, sensing a new presence enter just as William retracted his scythe and snarled at Grell.

"No, Sutcliffe! I won't let your infatuation with the enemy bring our Division to ruins. I'll restore peace no matter what it ta—"

Yellow-green eyes grew wide and deep red ones glinted with amusement. In the threshold of the mansion, Ciel gasped in shock and grabbed onto the doorframe.

Standing behind William with a glare of hatred stood Sector One Overseer Scotts. One arm was wrapped around the dark-haired Reaper's neck and his hand clamped over his mouth. His right hand gripped his scythe, which was currently jammed into his coworker's back. "To think," the dark-eyed Reaper snarled, twisting his weapon deeper, earning a muffled groan in response, "you would choose a demon-sympathizing defect over your own kind."

"Stop it, Scotts!" Grell screamed, breaking away from Sebastian's side for the first time to rush forward. "Sebastian isn't the enemy! William was just learning the truth—a demon named Decora is plotting an ambush in London!"

"Such amazing stories you fabricate, Defect." He responded, the last word tinted with distain. His hand that clenched his scythe slid a few inches down on its handle and tightened around a clamp that served as a built-in lever. The true nature of his death-scythe, like the motor of Grell's or the clamp on William's, was released. The piercing dagger snapped, four individual units breaking apart from on another to split the dark-haired Reaper's chest cavity open and slash through organs and ribs.

"No!"

"I'll leave you two to be annihilated by the beasts you so love. Good riddance!" With a vengeful grin, he kicked the small of William's back, sending him careening over the edge of the mansion and towards the ground. Grell lurched out and caught him, wincing as his clothes were soaked in a shower of deep red blood.

"No…no…"

The large Death God took off and was gone in seconds, leaving Sebastian free reign to do as he pleased. He moved slowly, enjoying the tension building up in the redhead who knew death was approaching him. He finally stood to loom over him, a bit disappointed that the long-haired man did not look up at him. His muscles became tight knots and he pulled William's limp body against him, waiting.

"Goodbye, Grell Sutcliffe. It was a pleasure to watch you make a fool of yourself, although not necessarily to know you."

"Bye, Sebastian." He whispered in response.

BAM!

Plip-plip-plip.

That was unexpected. Ciel turned and cried out in shock while the green-eyed man glanced up uncertainly. Rounding the corner was the Phantomhive maid, Maylene. Her glasses were off, revealing luminous amber eyes which were narrowed. She looked pained as she rushed over, a gun in each hand aimed to shoot Sebastian—for a second time.

"Mr. Sebastian, what are you dong?!" she screamed. The demon smirked, plucking a bullet out of his thigh. The blow had not even knocked his balance off.

"Where did you get those? Maylene?" the young earl looked at his servant in shock. She turned to him and smiled sadly.

"You shouldn't be seeing this, Young Master. It's supposed to be a secret. Please look away."

"My dear, it doesn't matter if he looks or not," the raven-haired man said calmly. "He's going to die soon…as are you."

Finny rushed over, standing behind Maylene. His wide aquamarine eyes were watery. "No! Mr. Sebastian, why are you doing this to us?" he choked, trying to keep back his sobs.

"Drop the façade;" he advised. "I see you're just trying to distract me from Bar—"

The sound of more shots ringing out broke the last of the Ciel's strength, and he fell to his knees with his hands clamped over his ears. Sebastian's head snapped forward to dodge the bullet's of Bard's rifle. The blond man stood behind a statue a ways off and cursed at the butler's speed. Although his cobalt-blue eyes were narrowed in focus, the corners crinkled with stress and pain like Maylene's. Shooting at a fellow staff member had not been on his agenda for the day.

Sebastian was supposed to be the ultimate servant: fast, accurate, and above all, unwaveringly loyal to his master. The three workers knew the monster before them had once been their friend, but the blood splattered around the yard and the fear in Ciel's eyes, coupled with the sinister glow of Sebastian's told of betrayal and violence.

Bard reloaded his gun.

Maylene slid her fingers back into the triggers of hers.

Finny cracked his knuckles and placed a hand on the trunk of a large tree, prepared to uproot and swing it.

"Stop it….just stop it…" the young earl's hands tore at his hair and he knew he was giving orders to no one.

The Death God looked up at Sebastian imploringly. "Please…" a weak murmur.

"I've been here too long." The demon stated almost to himself. "I sense that Decora is already arriving in London at this moment." His deep red eyes landed on yellow-green ones. "I will kill you, Grell Sutcliffe. And when I do I shall drink your blood as though it were red wine. Well, until then." And with a cruel laughed he leapt back into the trees, disappearing. Several shots were fired after him; all missing their target.

Silence fell, everyone staring after him. Finally Grell broke down, resting his head on his superior's bloody shoulder to scream.

_A/N: Yeesh. how unpleasant that chapter was. My Latin is not Latin; it's Google. Decora is roughly based off the word for beauty. Her chant sort of means:_

Unleash hell

Allow blood

Allow evil

Allow death

_I apologize if the horribleness of it offended anyone; but I don't have any friends who speak the language and I was dying to try it out. Maybe it's not so awful ^^".....hm._

_Anyway, things are pretty god-awful at the moment. I hate all the OCs I made more this story XD Nonetheless, please tell me what you think. Thank you for taking the time to read Ch. 5!_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: It's been a while, yes. I've become obsessed with Sherlock Holmes and am working on what I hope will be a really epic adventure of his if I can ever get it down on paper XD I promise to keep working on this although it's on the backburner at the moment. There's still plenty that needs to happen! That being said, please enjoy._

_Disclaimer: Don't own. Go to Toboso Yana if you want Grell and Sebastian to hook up. You may have to stand in line though._

Ch. 6: Prepared

"I need tourniquets. Where do you keep your first aid kit?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?!"

"…Sebastian used to do things like that."

"Damn. Well…do you have any wraps or gauze I can use instead?"

"I don't know."

Grell turned to glare at an irate Ciel. The child met his look coldly, blue eyes flitting to the limp body the redhead refused to let go of. With a sigh, the Reaper turned to a door.

"Guest bedroom?"

"This mansion is full of them. I would rather you just get out of here but do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." He snapped, turning. "Everything is over. Just…get away from me as soon as possible and don't ever come back."

Watching the small, shaking figure retreat, Grell couldn't help but call out (for Sebastian's sake, he told himself). "If it's over…maybe you deserve to understand more. I'm going to do everything I can to stop the bleeding and save William. Then, if you'll listen, I'll tell you about Sebastian and myself and what has gone on recently just because…you're a part of this too, human or not. I'm not about to lose him so don't you get all weak and assume everything's gone just yet!"

The earl froze where he stood, for the first time questioning why Grell had shown up at such an inauspicious time. "Did you cause this?" he snarled.

"No. But I'm ending it," he whispered, sliding through the doorway into the guest room and depositing the raven-haired man onto the bed.

Slowly, the light-haired child followed him in and sat in a chair by the window, glancing out to see his staff guarding the house faithfully. He had decided to ask them questions later once his vertigo wore off. Slowly, his gaze shifted to the Reaper, who tended his boss with a grave expression, peeling back his wet jacket and then unbuttoning his tattered vest and dress shirt.

"…He's not breathing, Grell."

It wasn't a particularly tactful way to break the silence, but Ciel Phantomhive wasn't known as the social beauty of high class society. Emerald orbs snapped up.

"That's because the scythe shredded his lungs to ribbons," he answered shortly with a bitterly casual tone. "Death Gods don't need to breathe. As long as his heart is beating (which it is), he'll live." His hand rested for a moment on the unconscious man's chest anyway as though to confirm the weak and erratic beating.

"Why did that guy attack you?"

"It's been on his 'to-do' list. He hates me. Evidently he hates Will too. I suppose he feels a human-born doesn't deserve to be a member of Dispatch Management." He sighed. "And I've been causing my kind trouble. Of course, it's not like he knew I was sleeping with a demon—"

"You what?! This—?!" Ciel rose, anger blurring his vision. What he wanted to do was slap the redhead until he fell to the ground, but the fact that the bed he was leaning over was still seeping up warm blood kept him at bay a few feet away.

"I didn't cause him to snap. You saw yourself that it was Decora. Her arrival was strictly coincidental. But yes, recently I've been with him." The boy continued to glare. "Well hey, earl. It's your fault for promising a day with him back when your little fiancée was in a jam. Sebby _was _eager to touch me, of course."

Now, Grell had begun to strip the sheets of the bed. He pulled out his scythe; the boy meanwhile dropped back into his chair, not bothering to yell even as the cloth was torn into strips and ruined, serving as makeshift gauze wrap for William. He continued his explanation once again, voice calm. "I've only been with him for a little while, but earlier today I went to my home realm to learn that a Dispatcher had been killed by a demon."

This caught the blue-eyed boy's interest, but he didn't interrupt. His fingers moved nervously to twist the ring around his thumb, the saphire stone matching his wide orbs. He couldn't help but wonder if the family ring was about to witness another of its owner's deaths.

"I knew it wasn't Sebastian, and I told everyone so. I came back here to warn Sebby as fast as I could and that's when Decora arrived. I guess she wants to overthrow humanity. That's been attempted before and failed. But…I wonder just how powerful Sebby is…you know, in his true form? There are plenty of demons around that are known to be powerful. I wonder why she chose him?"

"Sebastian is powerful. I've seen his true form once and only once and that was when he was in a docile mood. He could kill one of your own in seconds flat if he wanted to. Black feathers everywhere…those wings…and when his eyes glow…" he shuddered and Grell looked sincerely unnerved. "But…Sebby wouldn't hurt…me…"

"Why not? He doesn't love you. You know demons don't love. The only reason he serves—rather, _served _me is because of a Contract." He spat these words acerbically, fists clenching. Jumping at a sudden noise that was wholly out of place, he looked out the window. Outside, the yard was beginning to look normal again. The noise was the merry chirping of a few sparrows as they wove through the branches of the tall oak trees near the window. Although he could still see traces of blood even from the second story, he saw that peace was returning. Two more birds followed the group that was singing. He could see Finny pause to watch them with interest for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to the forest to keep his eyes out for another attack.

"Sebby does love me." Grell insisted, knowing the argument was pointless. His bright eyes wavered with emotion, and he busied himself with brushing back a few stray strands of ebony hair from William's forehead so he didn't have to look at the child. Shaking his head slightly, the boy simply stared down at his shoes. A war was coming. Would the Reapers be able to keep London—his glorious Queen's town—safe? He became wrapped in his own worries as the redhead did the same.

This time when silence fell, it was broken by a tender whisper.

"It…was my fault."

The blue-eyed boy looked up from the window to stare at the redhead who was frowning at the pale face of his counterpart.

"I won't apologize for loving him. But you were right. I was getting into stupid trouble and dragged you down with him. This whole time, you've been focusing on your job, trying to keep peace. I ignored your warning…I thought I was on top of the world and…I get it." Red strands of hair fell down upon, and stood out starkly against ghost-white flesh that almost looked cold to touch as he leaned close to William. "I love Sebastian. But maybe I can use that to save him, rather than sit around waiting for him to come to his senses. You've been protecting me this whole time…now it's my turn."

Watching closely, the earl found it confusing to see the redhead become so mild-mannered so quickly and even act conciliatory. "Can you really proclaim your love to my butler if you seem to have a soft spot for your friend?" he asked a bit bitterly.

Grell frowned at him, perplexed. "Me love Will? No." he answered flatly. "He likes me more than he lets on, but both of us would die before we loved one another. Our bond…" his fingers traced the makeshift wrap which was already beginning to seep through with ruby liquid. "is much stronger than a mere human could understand. Will is the man who severed my soul from my dying body…I am bound to him forever."

"Bound?"

"Well, figuratively. There is legend that a Reaper is bound by a spiritual connection to the one who Reaps him. So if the myth is correct, then I'll follow Will to Hell and back, staying at his side loyally."

"Do you really care about one another so much?" he asked dubiously.

"Not really," he answered casually. "There have been cases of Dispatchers turning on the ones who severed their souls. Around three centuries ago during a war with angels, one Dispatcher named Furelise served as a spy for the enemy and tore the Dispatcher who Reaped her to bits with her own scythe. Yes, poor Elle. That was quite a loss in that war from what I've heard. Haha…not that I would ever hurt Will. Whether or not there is much of a bond here, I won't let anything happen to him, though." Upon these words his yellow-green orbs began to glow like an emerald fire. Lethal…intense. "If I see Scotts again before I see William on his feet and safe…I can't be sure I won't splatter his cruel face with his red, hot blood…"

Ciel looked away, not wanting to see any more of the hatred that existed between Death Gods. It went deeper than the abhorrence that humans felt for each other. It was decades of death and close relations that stirred emotions the likes of which Ciel knew even he could not conceive. "Wonderful," he responded dryly. "But what about Sebastian?"

"What about Sebastian?" he echoed. "Did you really think I had forgotten about him for a second? I'm going to save him. As soon as I get my strength back…" with that his head fell against the side of the bed dully. "He's not himself…I don't want to lose him…I won't…"

"Then get him back for me." Was the simple response. The Death God glanced up at the boy uncertainly.

"Beg pardon?"

"You served my aunt as her butler. You also helped me for a day when you were able to profit from it. Well do you want to get him back? Perhaps I'll give you…limited but still, some regards if you bring my butler back to me."

Perking up, he sat up and smiled. "You have something to say, brat. Just spit it out the way you want to."

"Grell Sutcliffe, I'm making you my own personal butler for the day, and I order you to bring Sebastian back to me!"

Leaping up, he bowed deeply over the bed to the child, crimson strands of hair once again spilling over his unconscious companion. "Yes…my lord!"

XXX

Deep within the workings of the beautiful new clock, Big Ben, there was a flutter of wings. Black feathers fell down around the bells within the clock and violet eyes shifted to a pair of red ones.

"It's so good to see you, Sebastian. Shall I call you that anymore?"

A nasal snicker cut through the dark. "Sebastian, eh? Nah, I like it. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely. Much better than the name that Sonnellion gave him."

Sebastian scoffed. "Shut up, Verin. I didn't come this far to listen to your voice."

"The nerve," came an annoyed response.

"Please try and focus, gentlemen. We have an important task we are in need of accomplishing. We have Sebastian, but there is still work to be done." It was Decora who spoke, her violet eyes glowing in the darkness and passing red, blue, and yellow eyes as she spoke.

In the darkness sat five other demons. Verin and Vetis, twins, sat side-by-side. Their matching yellow eyes were narrowed in disinterest. Verin, sarcastic and dim, was the demon of impatience. That did little for his personality though. Although he lived to instill humans with impatience and make them headstrong—often leading to their own death and an easy snack for him—he himself preferred to see other demons work things out for him. His twin brother Vetis was corruption _en carne_. He manipulated people, animals, and even some events to deepen hatred, spill blood, and cause screams of anguish to echo through the night wherever he traveled.

Deumos ran her fingers over her crown lightly, eyes like blue fire. She was considered to be a sort of princess of Hell and also known to desire more than the eternal blaze of the afterlife. In her lifetime, she had been part of nearly every rebellion against Death Gods, angels, and humans that had taken place and desired nothing more than to claim one or more of their realms for her own.

Cresil, the demon of impurity and laziness, sat back with his feet swinging over the edge of the sill upon which he was perched. He was, like Verin, in many ways the opposite of the characteristics of human nature and powers he possessed. His red eyes shone brightly and listened intently to Decora. The beautiful Hellion was intelligent and seemed to like her a bit more than the rest of the crowd did.

Observant to this from months of serving a human and seeing emotions displayed in every way imaginable, Sebastian chuckled. Cresil cast him a questioning glance but the click of the purple-eyed woman's heels on metal brought both pairs of red eyes back to her.

"As I was saying, we don't have much time. Our plan is simple though, and even though the Death Gods know our plan, it's too early for them to call in help. Also, humans have not yet learned of our presence. Our battle tactic will be simple since our numbers are limited: We begin to feast tonight. Don't gorge yourselves; we'll need to be alert and ready to fight for when the dwindling numbers of Reapers of the United Kingdom come to stop us. I have no doubt that we'll be able to kill them all in no time. Especially since one is already dead, right, Sebastian?"

"About that," he started, lips curling back in a toothy smirk. "He got away. But another Reaper came, then another. The second to arrive was taken down by the third to arrive." At this, he began to laugh and was joined by Verin and Vetis.

"Was there a reason to this attack?" Verin inquired.

"Nothing the likes of which could possibly justify taking one of your own down when trouble is obviously brewing," he answered, a long nail twirling a loose strand of hair around thoughtfully. An amused smile remained on his lips.

"Reapers are idiots, then." Vetis said with a glance around. "This _will_ be easy."

"I still don't think it's that funny," Cresil chose to play cool, tossing a mane of silver hair over his shoulders.

Just then, the huge clock struck six o'clock. All six demons paused to feel the vibrations as gears moved and the bells shook the building as they rocked back and forth. Deumos rose and walked over to stand before the yellow-eyed men. "Don't underestimate Reapers, you two," she advised coolly. "They are similar to humans and may be swayed a bit by emotion, but they're diligent fighters and hard to kill."

"I beg to disagree," the black-winged man spoke calmly. "Just focus on disabling their scythes. The rest comes easily."

"You've killed them while here on earth?" Decora queiried, surprised.

"Well not actually. A second stepped in and I was focusing on protecting my master, not killing loudmouthed idiots. But getting him beneath my feet and placing his own scythe's blade against his neck was simple enough. Actually, it was the same one I almost killed before I came here."

"Twice now you've had the chance to kill him?" she questioned.

"That is correct," he answered, stretching his long legs before him.

"And twice now you've let him go."

Placing a long, obsidian nail to his lip contemplatively, he nodded. "Yes…I suppose when you look at it like that I'm not much of a Reaper slayer, am I?" he frowned, a bit unnerved as she knelt beside him, expression tense.

"Sebastian," her voice was unusually quiet and all other Hellions fell silent, listening to her as he shifted his heeled boots a bit in embarrassment. "When the time comes, you will be able to kill, won't you?"

A bit defensive, he bore his teeth. "Are you calling me weak? Decora, of course I will."

Black hair fell about her face as she stared down at her lap upon which her hands were, fingers laced tightly. "I want this to go successfully. Reapers killed my mate you know, Sebastian. That's one of the reasons I'm doing this. That and I just hate how much they frown down upon us as though we are the scum of the earth; they're the ones who do God's dirty work! His black angels are all they will ever be. I want to show them how disgusting they are. I want to smash their skulls open and make them sob as their beloved comrades fall one-by-one. And most of all, I want to take control of humankind and enslave them, eat them, torture them. Because that is what they deserve and it's very fun." She looked at him. "Do you understand?"

"Yes…"

"He does, he just has a soft spot for Death God he keeps mentioning," Verin called jeeringly.

The black-haired man snapped his head up to snarl at the yellow-eyed demon hatefully. "Don't you insult me like that! I'll kill you!"

With eyes cold as ice, the long-haired woman took his face in her hands and forced their eyes to meet. "Listen to me, Sebastian. When the time comes, will you be able to kill that god of death? I want to see you beat him to the dirt and then tear his heart out, alright? Will you be able to do that for me when I command it?"

He looked back, gaze intense. "Of course I will." He promised.

_Sebby has to kill Grell?! Oh dear! I'm sorry there has been so little GrellxSebby interaction so far in this fic, things will pick up again between them soon! Also, all the names (aside from Decora) are actual demon names although Vetis and Verin are not actually twins. Their personalities and looks are fabricated but their titles are real. ^^_

_ As usual, if you've made it this far then thank you very much for reading another chapter, please let me know what you think! :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Kyaaaah...I am sooooo sorry for the extended break I took from this! Fortunately I finally completed my AP exams, so school is basically over for me and the hardest year of high school yet is going to be smooth sailing from here. So here's a celebratory action-packed chapter, brought on partially from the encouraging reviews of **Madame Stephanie**! Please forgive me and enjoy the chapter :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Toboso Yana's Kuroshitsuji or any affiliated characters. I do have a Lau keychain though. Go...me...? *stares at keychain and shudders* creepy._

Ch. 7: Choose

"I have to go," Grell stated decidedly. Ciel looked up from a cooled cup of particularly unpleasant tea. The combined efforts of the former butler and the boy to produce a hot glass of Ceylon to soothe the nerves had been in vain. Two hours had passed in near silence. There had been no signs of any activity. The calm before the storm was maddening, and what was worse, the injured Reaper showed no signs of recovery, or even a stabilizing heartbeat.

"What should I do then?" Ciel asked hollowly. It was almost physically painful to ask what to do rather than give orders. Especially when he knew the man before him was just as helpless as he felt.

"Stay with Will. Keep an eye on your servants."

"Why aren't you brining Spears with you?" he shot back, a bit annoyed. He was far beyond fighting whole-heartedly with the redhead, but it was still annoying that his mansion was serving as a hospital for the supernatural when his domestic structure was already in upheaval.

"I'd bring him with me, but I can't risk Scotts knowing he's alive. That look in his eyes…he wants us both dead."

"Are you coming back with Sebastian then? You promised me you would." He reminded him.

"I will. I need to stop by my realm to see what's going on there and know what the demons Sebastian is with are up to. Then, I'll find Sebby and bring him back, even if I have to drag him here." He placed his own cup of tea onto the bedside table with a gentle clang. Unlike the child, he had managed to drink a good half of it before nausea got the better of him. He grabbed William's wrist one last time, taking his pulse and sighing after 20 seconds, brows furrowed. "If he wakes up, restrain him."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Ciel asked, glaring.

Grell shrugged. "You're a resourceful child. You'll think of something." With that, he pressed off from the ground in a powerful leap and a portal of light opened out of thin air. He leapt in and it closed behind him, leaving Ciel blinking the bright spots out of his vision and muttering under his breath. He suddenly felt the urge to call Bard, Maylene, and Finny in. He needed some company aside from the half-dead god. _No,_ he scolded himself. _That is foolish. I am earl of Phantomhive, and I need no one. _Rising and collecting his teacup, then Grell's, he made his way downstairs to dump the glasses out and try again.

XXX

Grell touched down lightly in William's office, not at all surprised to find it empty. He moved across the room quietly, walking on the balls of his feet to prevent his heels from clicking. He listened intently, hoping to there was no one on the floor. But the sound of footsteps approaching made him hiss in annoyance. It took a moment for him to realize he recognized them all to well. They were accompanied by the sound of a large mass of metal bening dragged behind.

"Ronnie!" the redhead kept his voice low, but opened the door to smile at Ronald Knox. The young Reaper stood before him in the hallway with his death scythe handle in one hand. The redhead had been grinning in happiness at the notion of seeing someone he could trust, but his smile immediately fell at the sight of the light-haired Death God's face. "Ronnie? What's wrong?"

"Boss Sutcliffe? Y-you're supposed to be dead!" he exclaimed, amber orbs widening.

"Would a lady such as myself really succumb to something as mundane as death, young man? Honestly, speak with a bit more consideration," he chastised, hoping to get some of the young god's usual spirit back; he looked ghastly.

It was quite a surprise when he lurched forward, latching onto the long-haired man with a childish whine. Knox was usually one to keep his physical distance from Grell despite their deep friendship. He complained he didn't like to be 'felt up by a homo.' Now, he buried his head in the crook of his friend's neck, body tense. "My Overseer said you and Spears were dead."

"Scotts is a dirty liar," he scoffed, patting the blond's back soothingly. "He attacked William but failed to kill him. He left us both for dead at the hands of a demon, Sebastian. But we were spared when he took off to meet up with some others. Does that explain everything?"

He nodded, not pulling away. "Are you here to help us fight now?"

"You're fighting against the demons already?" emerald orbs flashed in shock. "You won't be able to defeat them!"

"It doesn't matter." Ronald responded dully. "Madame Sinclaire is making calls on the first floor right now to get help from neighboring Divisions. Scotts led Dispatchers from Sectors One and Two to fight. The only reason I stayed behind was because he told me to get some files from Spears' office. He wants to take over your Sector now that he thinks Spears is dead.

"That bastard," the effeminate man was prepared to go off on a tirade, but the younger man pulled away and averted his attention.

"Where is Spears?"

"Recovering in the human realm. I didn't want to risk Scotts seeing him."

"Good plan," he placed his hand on his lawn-mower scythe. "If he's coming back, then I won't touch his office. I kinda don't want to die." His eyes clouded to a dark caramel shade at this notion. "Well, that's ironic actually. I have to go die anyway."

"Beg pardon?" Grell asked, unnerved. He had never seen the fun-loving Reaper look so scared before.

"I have to join the others in London and fight now. The demons have struck, Grell. And I have to kill them to protect the humans."

"N-no! You're too young and inexperienced! Do they want you to die? Decora is obviously powerful, and if they use their true forms…the United Kingdom Division will fall!"

"Too bad your crush never returned your feelings," Ronald spoke bitterly. It took Grell a moment to realize he was referring to Sebastian. "He might have helped set things right. I don't know where you stand, Grell. But you're my best friend and I'll keep my mouth shut about seeing you and knowing Spears isn't dead." He looked up, a young solider about to be deployed on the frontlines of a battle. "Thanks for always being there for me. You're my best friend." He took a shaky breath and continued down the hall, dragging the monstrous hunk of metal behind him.

"Ronnie!" it was a call of sheer desperation. Waiting at the mansion had obviously been a bad idea, and realization was hitting the green-eyed man; even if he managed to bring back Sebastian, that might be the only person he didn't lose.

The younger man turned back to look at him expectantly.

"I…I…take me with you."

"You wanna fight?"

"No. I'm going to talk to one of the demons. Sebastian's out there. He's…the one I'm in love with."

For a moment, incredulity crossed the young man's face. Distaste soon replaced it, but by the time he spoke he had managed a level expression. "Then I'll stay close so I can drag you out of danger when he tries to kill you."

Touched, Grell could only smile and hurry to catch up with his friend. "Actually, I believe I'll be the one protecting you."

Having some backup (and a friend previously thought gone at that) seemed to revitalize the brown-eyed man, and they moved a bit more comfortably beside one another. An impossible goal lay ahead, but there was the slightest spark of hope that friendship simply refused to allow to be extinguished.

XXX

People ran, screaming from the heart of London as beasts mutilated those who weren't quick enough. On rooftops above, formally-clothed individuals who looked like humans but moved like the destructive attackers clashed with the beasts with glowing eyes, who laughed and slashed at them. One woman, behind the rest of her crowd due to the fact that she was carrying two crying children, lost her balance. She regained it, but had caught the attention of Cresil. He raced forward and she let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching the toddlers to her chest as she awaited death.

Blood splashed onto the cobblestone messily and the woman looked with tearful eyes through loose strands of chestnut hair to see a large man standing before her. His black hair shone with a red hue from the flames around that were beginning to catch to various buildings. The man held a strange weapon and when he turned to look at her, a chill ran down her spine at the realization he was not human.

"Run!" he ordered. She didn't have to be told twice, readjusting the children in her arms, she took off once again, mad with terror.

"Your attempts to save these humans is in vain," Cresil sneered, plucking the weapon from his arm as blood rushed down it.

"No. Your attempts to cause chaos are. You will be brought down. All of you monsters will be!" Scotts yelled, lunging at the demon.

Cresil sighed and moved with grace, easily dodging attack after attack. "Why did I get stuck killing the crazy one?" he groaned, slashing at the orange-eyed Death God.

Above him Deumos was feeding the fires that had broken out, laughing manically. "Burn, wretched city, burn! Take their lives! Every last one!" Simultaneously, two young Dispatchers jumped towards her, one bearing an axe-like scythe which he swung masterfully, and the other bearing a weed-whacker-like weapon with jagged blades spinning around the end of it. Deumos moved skillfully, sidestepping the first attacker and grabbing a hold of his scythe's handle, swinging it (Reaper included) into the path of the second. The other Dispatcher gasped, changing her aim at the last second and choking out as her comrade flew into her at full speed, knocking them both onto the rooftop a building away.

Atop another building appeared Grell and Ronald. To their right, Vetis was severing the arm of a Dispatcher who trashed and screamed in agony. To their left, Cresil and Scotts brought a building down in their brawl. The blond shuddered, silvery hair catching the color of the fire and giving it an orange hue.

"Everything will be alright, Ronnie." The redhead assured. "Just help me find Sebby. You'll know you when you see him. He's more beautiful than any of these demons." Although he had not been alive to experience other wars with the demons, he pushed off and moved, unafraid as he hit the ground below and began to move through the streets quickly. After a moment of hesitation, Ronald followed. At every crash and scream, the younger god would cry out in fear. Grell, who normally reveled in bloodshed, had one thing on his mind.

_You can't hide from me, Sebby. I'll find you. And when I do I'll slap some sense into you if I have to._

"I recognize you."

His blood, which had been pulsing with apprehension, suddenly ran cold at the familiar voice of the cause for all his recent troubles. Grell turned to stare resentfully at Decora. She was in her glory, hair billowing in the wind caused by the contrast of cool air and heat from the infernos spreading across the city and eyes glowing bright from bloodshed.

"And I recognize you," he answered coolly.

"Boss?" Ronald came up to stand beside the redhead. He gripped the handle of his large scythe with both hands at the sight of the creature smirking down at them. "That's not the demon you wanna talk to…?"

"No, she's another one."

"How many of these things do you know? Jeez…" his voice was almost weak from fear, but he brushed the hair out of his face, an idiosyncrasy not unlike the way William adjusted his glasses incessantly.

"Too many," he responded. "Tell me, Decora: where is Sebastian?"

Her dark eyebrows shot up on her brow and her eyes widened. She snorted rudely, apparently quite entertained. "You and I are on a first-name basis, huh? Well don't worry, my cute little princess. I will reunite you with your prince." With a loud clack of her heels, she disappeared.

"She's going to come back," the green-eyed man informed, turning to look at his friend. "Now might be a good time for you to leave." With a flash, his own scythe appeared in his hands. He revved the engine, nodding to himself in approval.

The blond shifted his feet uncertainly. "I…I don't wanna leave you. Boss Sutcliffe…"

"Is that you, Knox?" the booming voice of Scotts carried several hundred yards. He was on the opposite of the street and quite a few buildings to the south of where the two Reapers stood. "Get over here; I need you to help me take this demon down!"

As the last words escaped his lips, Cresil managed to move fast enough to slash at the large god's arm. His white dress shirt was visible under his suit jacket for only a moment before it became bathed in red. Of course, a flesh wound was a joke to a Death God, and he continued to fight, livid.

Blond and redhead exchanged uncertain parting glances before Ronald held out his hand, always working hard to be a man about things. "This is our goodbye. Duty calls. Good luck, Boss Sutcliffe."

"Thank you," he answered, shaking his friend's hand vigorously. "Be safe, Ronnie."

The smaller man turned on his heel and took off, reaching his superior in two powerful strides and swinging his weapon at the silver-haired demon.

As a bloodbath commenced, Grell turned, for once not interested. He had better things to do than watch his favorite color run down cobblestone streets in rivers. If luck was with him, he would instead see the color in lovely pair of orbs. His eyes fell upon the rooftop on which Decora had stood. As he had hoped, she reappeared moments later, and she was not alone. If the effeminate Reaper was to be completely honest with himself, there was almost something comical in the contrast between Decora and Sebastian.

She was dressed in what he had always perceived to be the general dress of demons: black leather pants and a shirt that also appeared to be leather in texture but that was more like armor in its density. It served as a sort of protection, from what he understood. She wore boots with heels about three inches high. There was an absence of wings, he noted, although her nails were quite sharp. It clearly wasn't her full-blown demonic form. Standing beside her, Sebastian was still dressed as a butler. His nails were also long and sharp but once one looked past the blood splattered all over his clothing, he looked almost human. Well, the glowing red eyes were also as clear an indication as any.

But standing there side by side…it was Sebastian, the human-wannabe that truly stood out. There was something infinitely more enticing in his eyes, and although his smirk also seemed to hold more danger than hers, Grell immediately felt drawn to the familiar face. For once, his voice failed him.

"Sebby…"

Such a pathetic, breathy whisper. He sounded like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs and he knew it. The violet-eyed woman snickered a bit, but the look on the butler's face was level, composed; he was clearly hiding something. As the god of death stood in a pool of self-loathing over how pitiful he must look and sound when standing before the Romeo to his Juliet, the red-eyed demon spoke.

"So tell me, Decora," his voice was a restrained drawl. It seemed lower than normal and there was an unusual edge to it. "What is your purpose for bringing me here, just to stare at the United Kingdom Division of Death God's filth, the likes of which you could easily dispose of yourself?"

The words might have well have been a slap across their face for the effect they had on the bespectacled man. He visibly winced, fists clenching and unclenching as humiliation washed over him. Was that all Sebastian thought of him at the moment? Decora didn't seem so interested in Grell's reactions though.

"Don't play coy with me, Sebastian," she giggled, "This is the little god you told me you would kill. I want to see you prove to me that you are on our side. Kill him."

"Ah forgive me," he responded smoothly. "I almost didn't recognize him looking so pitiful and weak. It takes all the thrill out of annihilating prey when they sit there and take it—"

"I wont be taking anything, Sebastian!" the redhead managed to find his voice and yell up at the demon. "I…I'm here to bring you back to the young earl! I won't give up until you are once again bound and things return to normal."

"Do you really think things will return to normal if I do what you say?" Sebastian queried. And suddenly he was standing behind Grell, hands on his upper arms. "That if I decided that yes, indeed, I would go back to the Phantomhive boy, then Decora and the others would leave your race alone. Or is that inconsequential to you? Is getting back into my bedroom the only thing you are concerned with?" his nails were digging into the Reaper's flesh, hard enough to puncture the fabric of his dress shirt and draw blood.

Grell didn't react. He simply turned to look back at the man he loved. "I want to save London. I want my fellow Death Gods to be out of danger. I want your friends gone or dead and I want you back, yes." He took a shaky breath and earned a smirk in response. "I want you to hold me again, Sebby, to sweep me off my feet in a whirlwind of passion and bliss and I want to hear you gasps and moans and your soft breathing as I fall asleep beside you. But right now, what I really want…IS FOR YOU TO GET THE HELL OFF ME!"

He moved in a flash, spinning his body around and snapping loose of the other man's grip. In a fluid motion, he swung his scythe into the demon, tearing him open just below the right side of his ribcage. Sebastian gasped and staggered back, completely shocked. Even when he was in a bloodthirsty mood, he never raised his voice in such sudden fury. Clutching his side, he blinked at the green-eyed man.

His pupils were small and his pointed teeth glinted dangerously as they curved into a smile Sebastian hadn't seen since the Jack the Ripper case. "That's for breaking my heart, Sebby." He shrugged. "I've taken my aggression out. Now what's this she said about killing me? I thought I told you that you were coming back to the earl's mansion with me."

The ebony-haired man chuckled. "Your emotionally unsettled states give me whiplash. Please choose one emotion and stick to it for more than three minutes. Also, allow me to inform you of the fact that yes, Decora's trust in me lies on your head. I kill you, she sees I mean business. If I fail to kill you due to…" he chucked darkly. "Personal attachment, then she will see that I am ostracized from the others for being too weak. Of course, killing you won't be a problem." He moved quickly, faster than Grell could have conceived to pin him roughly against the wall of a building. Behind him, Decora landed gracefully and smiled in entertainment.

"I can't wait to see how you choose to destroy this Reaper, Sebastian, to tell you the truth. You were known back in Hell for being somewhat of an artist with your victims."

"Ah, so I have a reputation to uphold, I see?" he laughed/, eyes on Grell's.

"Sebby…_Sebastian_…please!" he thrashed a bit in the demon's grip but was aware it was futile.

Sebastian leaned close to his face. "My, my. You really have been more significant to me than I would have thought. Two pleasant evenings together and now an initiation practice. You are an unending source of intrigument. Well, until now, that is."

He was going to make a fatal blow, Grell knew. But all he could comprehend was that Sebastian's lips were _right there_.

_You made your decision, Sebastian. I see that. Now I'm making mine._

Their lips met in a tender one-sided kiss as the demon's claws dug into the Reaper's torso, running him through.

_Whoa another cliff-hanger! XD Sorry. Please review and let me know what you think. Thank you very much for reading!_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: As usual, thank you so so so SO much for all the outstandingly motivational reviews! I'm honestly not so fond of how this story has turned out, so to find how some people still enjoy it is so motivating! That being said, I don't know when the next chapter will be out because I haven't completed it yet but honest to god I'm working on it! Didn't the end of AP tests mean I was supposed to get my life back...? Damn the educational system!_

_Again, thank you! I hope you enjoy the next chapter :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own. But I do adore. And masacre in slashy fanfiction. Hey Toboso Yana, eat my shorts!_

Ch. 8: Awake

God, Sebastian's lips had not lost their luscious warmth; that much was for sure. For some reason, this was the only thing that occurred to Grell as Sebastian's hand was buried in his stomach, sharp claws slashing through organs. The pain was an afterthought, gripping his senses intensely although the wound was not fatal to a Death God.

The demon pulled his face away with a sneer. "Isn't this what you've wanted, Grell Sutcliffe?" he asked gruffly, "to feel me deep inside of you?" he twisted his hand to accentuate these words, causing the redhead to cough wetly as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

Green eyes landed on red and the smaller man spat a mouthful of blood into the demon's face with a scowl. "Go to Hell and stay there this time," he advised. For the first time in a long time, he revved his scythe's engine and swung, forcing Sebastian to release him. They stood glaring at each other for a moment, causing Decora to sigh. _Is he serious? Why is he playing around and thinking? Killing a young Dispatcher should be simple enough. _Her nails sharpened a bit. _Stupid Reapers…always messing with those they shouldn't mess with. Sebastian is a ruined demon. The least I can do is put him out of his misery._ It was that simple. Sebastian's hesitation spoke worlds to her, and she realized sadly that she had been too late upon her arrival to collect him. The bond with the human boy had been easy-enough to break, but another, stronger bond had already been forming.

Before she could speak, however, the dark-haired man again managed to grab the redhead and hold him down.

"Why?" Grell screamed in anguish, swinging his head as Sebastian tried to slash at his neck and hitting the demon's chin hard. "Why won't you listen to me? Do you even know who you are? Because I do! The man I love is still there in your eyes I can see it! You were never meant to be like other demons, Sebastian!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, growing increasingly agitated by the clicking of high heels against the cobblestones and the whipping of red strands of hair in his face.

"Do you have any idea how few demons make contracts? It means you have a special connection to humans. You are willing to become subservient and wait for a soul. That is an unusual trait in your kind."

_Someone's been reading up on our species, _Decora thought dryly, staring at the mess unfolding.

"I just followed the bloodshed and chaos of Ciel Phantomhive's life and took advantage of his weakness, locking his soul to me." Sebastian stated coolly.

Grell turned to look up at him. "You aren't like others," he reiterated. "You have the ability to empathize with human emotions. In this way you yourself have become something closer to human than to demon. And I love you for it. I want to know everything about you. Not when you're acting cruel and eating souls, but when you take the time to use that brilliant mind. Don't you get it, Sebby? You have a gift. The gift to get out of Hell for good! Stay with me! On Earth, please! Stay with me so we can fall in love!"

In a fluid motion, the red-eyed man tore his hand down the Reaper's spine, shredding not only his vest, but his shirt as well. His skin broke, leaving bloody trails down his back where the demon's claws moved. The green-eyed man screamed in pain as a memory flashed through Sebastian's mind.

The memory was not so distant, but it had been pushed far back into his mind with so many things overshadowing it recently. But now as he closed his burgundy eyes, he could feel warm blood running over his fingers and hear whimpers of pain. He could see a name staring back at him. A name branded into the flesh of a living, breathing (well, sometimes breathing) individual.

_Sebastian Michaelis_

Along the skin of Grell Sutcliffe's back.

"_From this point on, you will be Sebastian Michaelis, and you will serve me, understand?"_

"_Yes, my lord."_

_Ice blue eyes._

He gasped loudly, spinning the redhead around before him so he could peel back the ruined shreds of cotton to gaze at his bloody skin. It was still there. His…name. The one Ciel had given him and that set down who he was to be while on earth. The one that had given his life new meaning and opened him to an overwhelmingly colorful blend of feelings. And trembling before him in a combination of rage and fear was the cause for the widest range of emotions he himself had ever felt.

"They still call me that; even now…" he mused to himself more so than to Grell.

"It suits you. It's who you are…I still love Sebastian." He explained softly.

There was a tense silence, and the demon released the frailer man, eyes losing some of their sinister glow. The redhead lost his footing and hit the ground, awaiting a blow. Nothing came and he looked up.

The ebony-haired man was pushing his bangs back for a moment, taking a deep breath, almost as if to collect himself. "Decora. I'm calling this off now." He turned to smile at her.

The woman didn't flinch or look surprised. Slowly, her eyes took on an eerie glow. "Sebastian…is this really how you want it to end? You have it all laid before you. It can all be yours. Don't tell me you're really going to choose a Death God over the world."

"This isn't a world you are promising me. It's just going to become an extension of Hell. I think I've finally reached the point where I can tell that that isn't what I want." He smirked, looking for a moment like the Sebastian Michaelis he once was at Ciel's heels. "I'm beyond that and frankly, I find you…well, what was that word I used to describe Grell before? Ah…pitiful."

It happened too quickly for any human to comprehend. Fortunately, all three of them were quite aware and in control. Decora lunged at Sebastian, claws aimed at his heart. Grell swung his weapon for her neck, while Sebastian grabbed him around the waist to pull him out of harm's way. The result wasn't what the woman had been expecting. The dark-haired man successfully pulled the redhead out of the way, but his scythe reached farther than she had anticipated.

With a splash, she fell into a puddle of her own blood, her jugular severed and her head connected to her shoulders by a bit of flesh on the right side of her neck. It wasn't enough to kill her; blood loss was dangerous but she was able to survive due to the fact that her heart was still beating, pumping fresh blood through even the few blood vessels connecting her head and body. She spat a mouthful of blood out, eyes flicking to the other demon. He shrugged.

"Well done, Grell."

The revving of his scythe died down to nothing, and they stood there as its echoes reverberated into nothing. "I want to be alone with Sebby."

"Then let's go. Will you be alright leaving your comrades with my kind?"

Emerald orbs scanned the horizon; scarlet and smoke were all he could see. Screams and crashes were all he could hear. There was a faint taste of iron in his mouth. "First thing is first. And that's always been you."

Without either one of them speaking or even making eye contact, their hands moved out to interlock. Silently, demon and god walked down the street, simultaneously picking up speed and heading towards the mansion together.

XXX

The travel was in silence and as trees moved around them in a blur, Sebastian lost the ability to hold his question in any longer.

"Why do you love me?" it was almost painfully cliché, but he had to know…to hear the explanation in no one but Grell's words. And with him being completely earnest and serious for a change; that was also necessary. The sickening game of Romeo and Juliet was coming to a close, with neither star-crossed lover dead. The soliloquies were being replaced, however, with clear explanations and, he hoped, a glimpse into who Grell truly was.

"At first I was just turned on by your looks," he answered bluntly. He passed a quick glance at the demon but seemed to hold no remorse for saying it. "Slowly, more and more drew me in. Your beauty had me fantasizing about you each night. But when I heard your voice for the first time as the Barnet family butler, and when I first truly looked you in the eyes and said a word to you…things began to change." The demon nodded, remembering the days that Ciel and Madame Red visited one another, usually bringing on embarrassing misadventures with Grell's human façade making messes of things.

"I loved your natural talent," he added with an eerie chuckle. "One hell of a butler, right? Well I didn't just admire you. I wanted to impress you. I knew soon that you weren't human and my curiosity was so intense. Around then your master uncovered the truth about Jack the Ripper and our lovely dance ended far too soon for my liking, Sebby. But at least I got to see you again."  
"That occasion is what started our bond, right?"

"You're right," now he smiled. "Had little Elizabeth Middleford never been kidnapped, I never would have protected your master and he never would have agreed to give me my very own day with you. I'll admit…" his eyes moved back to look ahead. "I don't know much about love, Sebby. I've met rejection plenty of times, but never love. But before I knew it, I didn't just want to sleep with you. I wanted to know everything about you. What do you like to do? Is there any food on Earth that you like to eat? What personalities draw you in? Push you away? Oh, god, Sebastian! I just want to be with you for the rest of eternity, loving you and looking into your beautiful red eyes, seeing the depths of who you are within."

"Then you're a fool." He answered simply. "And you speak overdramatically. But despite these shortcomings, I find that there's something about you that draws me in as you have felt. I…want to know you better as well. I want to hold you in my arms as you sleep and I want to kiss you and see you smile."

"Sebastian…?"

The mansion was in sight now and the demon moved to scoop the Reaper up in his arms. The redhead's arms snaked around his shoulders. It was the first time since he had wounded the Reaper that he thought of it, the feeling of blood making him stop, the god, bridal style in his arms, looked at him questioningly.

"Grell! Are you...going to be alright?" he demanded.

"Oh that? You didn't hit anything vital. Tore my spleen, but that'll heal; it didn't rupture. I'll be anemic for a while but don't worry. I'll clean it and sleep later. Then I'll be fine."

"Ah," he sighed in relief. "Sorry about that. Well…that certainly ruined the moment. And to think, I was going to kiss you." He smirked a bit as the bespectacled man's face fell.

"Oh, you can still do that!" he insisted shrilly.

"Are you sure?"

"I…I'm feeling faint, Sebby. You got my lungs! Quick, breath air into my lungs….ack…" he pretended to fall unconscious in the dark-haired man's arms.

"Oh how distasteful. I know for a fact you don't need to breathe."

"Kill….joy…" he whispered weakly, apparently still dying.

Sighing in bemusement, he leaned down and brought his lips over Grell's. "Fine then. My lady…"

The space between them closed in the softest kiss either had ever felt. To the Death God it was acceptance, and he pulled himself closer to Sebastian; desperate to taste true love. To Sebastian, it was rebirth and death all in one. The bloodthirsty demon that had been the true form caged within a butler's body was dying; he knew that. The monster had been dying for a long time and he had been denying it. It had crumbled away as he became bound to Ciel emotionally, as he had reveled in the strange world of human weakness. And soon it was only a looming shadow with black wings; nothing more than a forgotten persona. While this side of him, the side bound to Hell, slid out of his body, he was getting a chance he had never imagined would be offered to him: the chance to be loved.

He pulled away from the redhead slowly, reluctantly. "I would love to keep this up forever, but I owe an apology to my Young Master."

Green orbs grew wide. "And I need to see Will."

He continued to carry Grell, and this actually sped up their process without the injured Reaper lagging behind. They approached the house and were almost to the front door before they noticed the nightmare unraveling before them. Blood. Everywhere. An abandoned rifle and a shattered statue. The demon looked around and spotted the bodies of the three staff members nearby, all lying on the ground by the side of the house.

"They're alive." Grell assured, enhanced eyes taking in the sight of their souls, still connected to their mortal forms. "Just injured, all of them."

"Someone is here; this blood is fresh." He thought out loud.

Just then, a scream ripped from the upper story of the mansion. The voice was high-pitched and young, crying in unadulterated terror. It registered to the demon and although the contract he had with the voice was broken, he felt urgency rip through him. "Young Master!"

Never releasing his grip on the redhead, he raced into the house and practically flew up the stairs, his feet barely ghosting over the rich red carpet before rising again. Upon getting close to the guest room from which Ciel's voice had arisen, he could smell the intruder who had beaten him back to the Phantomhive residence.

"VERIN!"

He threw the door open and before he could even take in the contents of the room, red flashed across his vision.

_Sorry it was a bit short! I do hope you enjoyed Sebby and Grell's little squabble. But Reconstruction has only just begun! Please let me know what you think, I hope to see you soon. Thank you for reading this far!_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Again, it's been a long time and I am sorry...but I've promised not to give up so this story will end! I think you will find things taking a turn now anyway. For those who still are reading, I thank you so much! For those who are still reviewing...*showers you all with virtual cookies* do people still do that? Maybe just not on this fanbase? Huh, anyway,_

_Disclaimer: I haven't even bought the second volume yet. How could I afford Toboso Yana's Kuroshitsuji? Her characters, people._

Ch. 9: Reestablish

Pain. Sudden pain and pure shock were all that Sebastian was able to register. One minute he was rushing to open a door and the next: red. And he felt as though his face was being torn open.

"Sebastian!"

Staggering, the demon gathered what had just happened. Anticipating his entrance, Verin had attacked him before he could even gage what was inside the room. Gaining balance, now, he looked up at the smirking demon. Verin raised his eyebrows, eyes yellow and goat-like. "What a shame; I've sullied the perfect face of every human's favorite Hellion." He spoke with a cocky, prideful tone.

"Where is he?" Sebastian demanded, placing Grell down to touch his bleeding face.

"S-Sebastian…" Both butler and Reaper froze and turned in shock. Apparently Verin had only just arrived, for William remained untouched and unmoving on the bed. And crouching behind a desk, eyes wide with terror, was Ciel. From the looks of things, the intruder had been hoping to make a quick snack out of him.

The intruder gave a snigger as Grell stepped forward, looking at the boy who refused to break his gaze with the black-haired man. "Earl, you told me to bring him back. A promise is a promise, eh?"

"Impossible…" he whispered. "You came back willingly?"

Sebastian bowed, feeling more blood rush out of the gash along his face at the motion. "I live to serve my Young Master. That is what I intend to do. I'm done playing childish games with these fools," he motioned to his fellow demon. "I will do as you ask and we can reestablish the Contract later—for I do intend to get that soul of yours that is rightfully mine."

It was unexplainable. For a moment, Ciel had been certain his death was at hand. And suddenly, with his butler, his loyal servant, in the room again, he felt his strength return. "If that's so, then get rid of him!" he cried, pointing at Verin.

"That's the earl I recognize," the redhead whispered, smiling maliciously at the outnumbered intruder. "Shall I leave this to you, Sebby?"

"I wish you would," he answered, eyes glowing as Verin's did the same. "My master's orders were for me to carry out alone. Don't let him watch; this is nothing a child should see, owner of Funtom Company or not."

The two Hellions seemed content to fight one-on-one, and Grell hurried over to Ciel, scooping him up with one arm. "Wh-what are you doing?" the child demanded.

"Vacating you and Will from the premises," he answered cheerily, grabbing William with his other hand and lurching out the window, managing to land with little harm, albeit little grace as well. "It should be safe in the gardens; this mansion is so close to London that I can see the smoke of its fires from here, but Sebby should set things right before you are put in further danger."

He dropped the blue-eyed boy down and continued to carry his Overseer quickly towards the gardens, one of the few places on the estate he knew well.

"No! I need to go back to Sebastian! I need—"

"There's nothing you can do, Earl. Face it: you're a tiny human. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't help him fight in any way. And I'm almost totally certain that he will return to reestablish the Contract." Grell spoke a bit tiredly, his wound ached and the nauseating truth that his friends were still a few miles away fighting for their lives was discouraging. Nonetheless, he was thinking with more clarity than was characteristic of him, and it seemed to be working wonders on Ciel, who stared at him silently as their walk ended in a small gazebo.

"You're telling the truth," he spoke slowly. "So then, mind telling me just what you did to get Sebastian to listen to you? To trust and even obey you?"

The redhead turned to see that the boy's stoic and slightly arrogant look had returned. His strength was back but curiosity lit the backmost depths of his wide blue eye; Grell understood exactly why. He was still wondering himself. "Well," he turned and grinned girlishly "Sebby just couldn't resist me, you know? I mean, I'm so cute he just—"

"Your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. Stop talking; I'm done." He answered. "On second thought, I'll just ask Sebastian about it later myself."

In response, he feigned insult and pouted, but the stirring of his boss wiped his expression clear.

In his arms, the dark-haired man was beginning to awaken, eyelids fluttering like a nervous bird's wings, and the tight corners of his lips loosening a bit. Grell looked surprised-enough to drop the Reaper where he stood, but maintained the self-control and discretion to kneel down inside the shady wooden enclosure instead, allowing his boss to lie down and come to his senses.

"See, Earl? Everything's going to be fine! If Sebastian cannot fix everything, I know William can!" The waves of exhaust which had just grasped Grell tightly were suddenly broken and disappeared at the sight of his powerful coworker regaining consciousness.

Ciel watched, surprised. "I really didn't think he was going to survive…you Death Gods are dogged."

Though his eyes remained closed, William suddenly spoke in a subdued rasp. "I will ask you both to keep your voices down. I find that I have quite a splitting headache, and would appreciate a bit of quiet."

The young earl looked ready to retort with equal pompousness, but a toothy grin from the long-haired man assured him that no offence was meant. "Honestly, Spears. You put up with me everyday and suddenly a headache his going to stop you? Get up so a lady doesn't have to do all the work herself, you rude man."

"What's happened since I've been out?" he demanded in response, sitting up slowly, stiffly. Flesh slid over gaping wounds and dried blood and he had to be content to sit up, supported on bent elbows, and try to look as powerful as he once had. "Grell Sutcliffe…" he drew a jagged breath; overwhelmed by how much the wounds from his coworker's scythe still hurt. "Tell me."

"In order to explain all that has happened," he spoke sternly, "I will have to make you swear to remain sitting until I have finished, no matter how horrible our current situation may be."

Ciel read the horror on William's face despite his stoic façade. "Then it's war?"

Grell sighed. "Just listen, please."

XXX

It would be easy to leave.

Black feathers slowly drifted through the air and as if by magic, ceased to exist, overcome by the stagnancy of the English air and the heavy smell of blood and the faint breezes cast by flapping black wings. After a full minute, Sebastian was himself again; a modest butler standing amidst a gruesome murder scene; chunks of Verin lying in abstract heaps across the guest room.

His uniform was fairly dirtied by his handiwork, but, recalling an unexpected barrage of bullets from another task he had performed for the young earl, he considered his wounds to be child's play. At least his clothes weren't so torn. He considered how easy it would be to leave. Lifting his thumb to lick away a dab of crimson, he strode across the room to the door. Looking back one last time, he considered his fellow Hellion, who had audaciously tried to kill Ciel Phantomhive. Tufts of black hair and a smear of gray matter, sitting in the open shell of a skull like porridge in a cracked China bowl. A splintered femur bone, dripping marrow onto the sheets of the bed, a few ribs on the desk and a few more by the window. _Simply pathetic, Verin._

Sebastian Michaelis snapped his fingers. A few ravens and crows with eyes like glimmering rubies flew in through the open window and fell upon the remains of the demon. "Eat him. And don't leave a single eyeball or tendon for me to clean up, thank you. Quickly now."

Beaks snapped against bone and muscle.

And it would be perfectly easy to leave.

So simple, to return to Hell and live in the shelter of his father, Sonnellion, for a few decades until Decora's rage simmered down. Or perhaps she would win after all and humanity would fall. But that, he seriously doubted. Ever the methodical man, the butler considered which choice would be the preferable one. To leave the Phantomhive earl to defend himself and choose not to choose sides…or to reestablish the Contract and return to the past in essence; he had to admit that working for the child had been entertaining and easy. He walked outside, towards the gazebo, when he heard raised voices and broke out of his reveries.

William was struggling, staggering, fighting to push off and ascend into the treetops, heading in the direction of London. Behind him was Grell, grabbing at him and screaming shrilly.

_Grell_…

"Stop it, William! There's nothing you can do in your condition! Just wait for Sebastian please—stop!"

"I can't let just sit here and do nothing Sutcliffe, so let go of me! I can't let them die!"

In an instant, Sebastian stood between them, holding the dark-haired Death God's shoulder firmly and Grell's wrist as well.

"Well, well, well. I cannot say that it's pleasant to see you standing once again, Mr. Spears."

William's viridian orbs darkened and narrowed to slits. "Sebastian Michaelis." He spoke as though the name was acid on his tongue.

"As much as I would love to catch up on everything I have missed with you," the demon sneered, his eyes flitted to Grell, and the bile that had risen in his throat in the presence of the Dispatch Manager disappeared. This was the reason he would stay on earth and see things through to the end…this was what he wanted…

"Sebby? You're staring at me. Are you going to faint?" the redhead asked.

The dark-haired man collected himself with ease. _Silly, silly Grell._ "No. Excuse me. As I was saying, _Mr. Spears_, I have something I must attend to. I'm staying here so I may associate with your employee, Mr. Sutcliffe—"

"_Miss _Sutcliffe—"

"Shut up, Grell." It was a chorus between William and Sebastian, and they looked at each other with distaste at having said the same thing.

"So I may associate with Grell. But first," he grinned down like a hungry wolf at the gazebo, from which Ciel was staring at him in amazement. "I have some business I must attend to with Earl Phantomhive. Such a rare treat does not present itself often, and this soul I am most desirous to taste sometime soon."

He leapt down to stand before the small boy. Ciel opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. "You will…serve me once again?"

"For a price, Young Master."

Ciel's expression wavered, then became hard-set. "Fine. I accept your terms, same as before. Restore to me what I have lost!"

It was a swift, fluid motion in which Sebastian leapt at the child, knocking him back into the wooden enclosure. Both Reapers flinched, and William made to run after them, but Grell held his arm fast.

"Don't interrupt, Will." His voice was severe, his favoritism clear. "I don't want to be the one to reopen your wounds."

"You're love-drunk, Sutcliffe. It will get you killed," the taller man responded. But he saw nothing to gain by going against his coworker's words, and he held still, stifling the occasional shudder that ran down his spine as the Contract was sealed once more. It took less time than either man expected; a mere few minutes after the two figures had disappeared into blackness, the shadows lifted and Sebastian reemerged from the gazebo, holding the small boy in his arms, a smirk on his face. He sauntered over to where Grell and William stood and gave a brief, shallow bow, so as not to disrupt the unconscious Ciel sleeping peacefully in his arms.

"If you are both prepared then, I believe a trip to London is in order."

_London? But there's danger there, you guys! So, still liking the story I hope? Please let me know what you think as I scramble to get another chapter up before 2012 XD Thank you very much for reading so far! Feel free to leave a review. (And if critisism is in order, please try to make it constructive and rational! Thankies!)_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: What happened? I wanted to update sooner! I'm so sorry everyone, the 'birthday rush' came up so suddenly I was really busy (friends bdays on the 20th, 19th, mine on the 23rd, another friends on the 25th, and another coming up on the 30 O_O)._

_Still, that's no excuse! I tried to make this chapter long to make up for it! I'm thinking that the next chapter will probably be the last one, with an epilogue after that ^^ _

_Also, I know I've been dragging this out for months and months, so thank you-no-THANK YOU! *bows deeply* TO ALL WHO STILL REVIEW! It means a lot! Namaste!_

_That said, please enjoy!_

Ch. 10: Crumble

Things were not looking good for the Reapers in London. In a mere few hours, most humans had fled the town on foot and horseback, scattered like ants, screaming, bleeding and praying. The masses bled into surrounding cities, even the Scotland Yard, famous police force of the United Kingdom turning tail and fleeing. And in the heart of the devastated city, Decora watched the battle draw to an end with a frown. This was not what she had expected.

Her plan had been simple. Sebastian had heeded her orders and fought by her side as expected. And yet that stupid _freakish_ little upstart…that strange, strange god of death had stopped her plans from unwinding flawlessly. Because that stupid little god of death had won the heart of the gifted demon. _It all could have been perfect. And I could have been a legend. _She sighed with some bitterness as one of the Overseers, a woman, was thrown back by Vetis, who was having a bit too much fun fighting to the death.

"Lady Sinclaire!"

Ronald Knox watched his superior hit the glass display window of a toy shop at break-neck speed. The glass exploded along with the contents of the display case, and toy bunnies and bears, bearing the name Funtom in beautifully-detailed tags, scattered over the street. Sinclaire did not have time to observe the precious products from the store, however. At the moment she could care less that the very designer of them was rushing to her aide as she fought.

She only had time to duck and avoid teeth, nails, and a snarl from the yellow-eyed Hellion.

Knox had looked on with horror, and he quickly moved to rush over and help her. However, a powerful hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to face Scotts.

"Let her fight alone, Knox. I need you with me."

"But…Lady Sinclaire has been injured. Sir, please, with Spears down as well—"

For a split second and only a second, the small Reaper could swear that a twisted smile, more painful-looking than any deep gash torn by a demon, crossed his boss' face. But in an instant, his commanding look returned. "Knox, she'll be fine. Besides," was that—_mirth_—in his eyes? "If she is killed, I will gladly take over all three Sectors. I'm sure you'd agree that I would be capable of handling it."

Something within the young Reaper erupted, and he felt the urge to swing his weapon at his own boss as a vengeful fire burned in his belly. But, though Ronald had impulsivity similar to Grell's, he calculated that this was fight he could not win. Though he had finally felt the slap across the face—the reality that Scotts was taking advantage of his fellow gods as well as the demons—Ronald simply nodded and he continued to aim his attacks solely at Deumos, swearing he would cut that crown right off her pretty head in honor of Spears and Sinclair.

With a light thump, Cresil landed beside Decora, boots splashing in the deep pool of blood that surrounded her. "Sorry I have yet to attend to you; I wanted to see what you would do."

She snarled in response.

"You aren't moving much. You were nearly decapitated by the effeminate Reaper, I see. And then he took Sebastian away. Ha, then Verin followed. So what's happening, Decora? You're injured and down for the count. Certainly Deumos, Vetis and I can't take almost two dozen gods down alone?"

"You can…" she rasped. "And you will. So I can see the look on…on Sebastian's face." The words took her time to articulate as she struggled to draw breath through her torn windpipe. The pain was something she could handle. As a Hellion, she could heal herself even faster than a Reaper. But it was the indignation that simply froze her where she lay; furious and bloodthirsty.

"Ah, yes. Sebastian. I observed your interactions with him. You were hoping to pick up a planet, and also a mate, were you not?"

Despite her prone position, she lashed out her right arm and managed to tear a gash into his shin. Cresil hissed in pain, but did not strike back. "You jealousy was obvious from the start, Cresil. But I could care less about how you feel. All I sought with you was a deal, so carry it out. Join Vetis and Deumos and finish what we've started—" a few more gasps and struggles to gain enough breath—"then you will be rewarded by the bounty of souls to eat."

"I know," he muttered, deeply offended but not one to dwell over sentimental feelings. All he truly wanted was to see Sebastian return, so he could kill him for Decora. The sight of the butler's dead body, and her violet eyes looking at it with the same hatred he felt, was the only reward he truly desired. "Shall I leave you here to erm…collect yourself?" The silver-haired man was unable to resist poking some fun at her misfortune.

Again, an animalistic snarl was her only reply. Calmly, he pushed off the street gracefully and advanced towards some young Reapers, panicked without their Overseer around to protect them.

Ronald closed his eyes tight for a moment as a yellow-eyed demon whose name he did not know crushed one of his own beneath a hansom. "Take that!" he snarled as a choked gag and river of blood were the only things to emerge from the splintered mess.

"Keep it together, Knox!" Scotts was screaming as he struggled to keep his guard up.

"Yes, sir!" Or so he said. But, for the love of all that was good, how was he supposed to keep it together? He had never been prepared for this kind of fighting. Reaping souls was one thing; facing creatures who desired nothing more than to kill was a bit different. His heart lurched in his chest and he dry-heaved, clinging to the handle of his lawn-mower scythe and praying one of the monsters would hurry up and kill him.

Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, they seemed to pay more interest to Scotts, who fought viciously though he simply couldn't get a fatal blow into either Deumos or Vetis. At the moment, he was focused on taking down the yellow-eyed male, Vetis. The two raced at each other, fought scythe-to-claw for all of a few split seconds, and landed yards away, only to start the same act over again.

"You! Assist me!" the Overseer snapped at a young Reaper from Grell's Division. He nodded and followed his superior's actions; the only difference being that he was inexperienced and soon the demon had him by the neck.

"M-Mr. Scotts help!" he pleaded, and Ronald was suddenly grounded again by the desire to help a friend. He prepared to move, but his boss did first, lifting his scythe.

"Perfect, kid," he muttered under his breath.

The small blond's eyes widened in terror as his superior played a cold-blooded hand.

He shot his projectile weapon at Vetis and paid no mind to the fact that there was a god between his target and his scythe blade. With a sickening splat, the knife traveled through the Reaper, severing his spine like it was made of paper. He let out a pathetic death cry, body falling limp and skewered as the demon himself was stabbed a moment later.

"That was a dirty trick," his hissed, dropping the body and stumbling back in shock and pain. "I like your style, Chuckles."

"Don't you talk to me like you're on my level, filth!" Scotts snarled in retort.

It seemed as though Ronald could no longer hear their conversation. His large round eyes were locked on the sagging body of his coworker, whose name he was not even sure of. He felt a wave of guilt sweep through him at this realization. They might have been friends, had the war not broken out. Even at that very moment, they might be Reaping together, or filing papers and sipping coffee in an office somewhere. Instead, that young individual was dead—by his boss's hands!

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the body before him. In response, it simply collapsed to the ground, face first in the damp earth as his Overseer retracted his death scythe. The blond flinched at the sight, but remained where he was, half hidden behind his boss and feeling very cowardly.

"My my…what a cold move that was. You're as heartless as ever, I see."

A voice suddenly cut through the thick air like a knife. It was clean, crisp, merciless. And just hearing it made the small Reaper's heart swell with sudden hope while the blood drained from his boss's face.

"No…there's no way…I killed you…" The orange-eyed Reaper's hands shook.

"Mr. Scotts, good to see you. Mr. Knox, I trust all is well." William walked forward calmly, emerging from Baker Street and standing on London's Main Street alongside his two coworkers. He was decidedly pale, and he walked with a certain stiffness of diaphragm, but there he stood, alive and although his exterior was its usual practiced mask of indifference, he was clearly livid. "Knox, go find Sutcliffe. I want to have a word with your boss." He said, looking at Vetis wearily.

"Yes, sir!" a meek reply was squeaked before the blond fled to find his friend.

Scotts watched him leave with clear dislike; Ronald seemed to prefer following William's orders over his own. But with a sneer, he turned to his coworker. "You're tougher than I thought, I'll give you credit. So you and the defect survived those demons. No problem—" And suddenly he was rushing at the dark-haired Reaper at top speed, "—I'll kill you myself!"

"If I may speak so candidly, you're acting foolish," it was a wonder that William could be so calm to a common enemy, but decades of formality were branded into his psyche, and he was polite as ever. "There is a demon standing before us. That's the real enemy here."

They both looked uncertainly at said demon, who was merely smiling at them. Without a warning, he burst into laughter. "Well I'll be damned! I don't know where my brother Verin got off to, but he should see you! You gods are hilarious, fighting each other rather than me! This is too easy! I'll kill you both!" Still laughing like a lunatic, he tried to tackle William, but his attack was intercepted by Scott's scythe.

"No," he murmured, warding the yellow-eyed man off his weaker counterpart. "He's mine."

The green-eyed man strained to keep himself from losing control, but he was successful, and took advantage of Vetis's distraction to use his own shear scythe, hitting the Hellion in the stomach. Goat-like eyes widened as he choked wetly, struggling to draw breath. "How about this? As ordered by law in the Book of Foreign Interference, Chapter Seventeen, Article Twelve, we kill this demon for his crimes against the living?"

"Deal."

"And then, Mr. Scotts," Simultaneously they both fell in on the demon to deliver the fatal blow.

"Then I can take you down like I should have done from the start."

_Click._

_Shnk!_

_Splat._

XXX

Ciel stirred. Slowly, he opened one wide blue eye. _One eye…! _He sat bolt upright with some difficulty, realizing it was because he was in Sebastian's arms. And his usual eye patch was covering his right eye once again.

"Ah, you look well, Young Master."

"Sebastian? You're here? Then…the Contract—"

"Has been reestablished successfully. We are currently heading to the heart of London to finish what I have started. Everything is under control."

The boy looked into his butler's face, but only felt the usual strength and confidence welling in his own heart at the sight of those dark red eyes. Nothing like the more recent fear he had been experiencing. Content to accept that things were back to normal, he looked around, not yet ready to walk on his own.

They were certainly not taking the scenic route. All around them, carriages were tipped over, small fires were burning (along with some larger ones), streetlights were bent and misshapen and shops had been broken open. The air was thick and smoky, like that of a bar. However, the acrid smell of booze was replaced with a more metallic iron scent that Ciel found was instinctively synonymous with death.

Put shortly, it was utter chaos, and none too pleasant a trip.

Nor was it quiet.

"Sebby, my feet hurt. Sebby my spleen aches. Sebby, a bug just flew in my face!"

"I had almost forgotten that you two were joined at the hip now," Ciel sighed with sarcastic bereavement. "I suppose I'll have to accept daily migraines now to keep you satisfied, huh, Sebastian?"

The black-haired man gave him an equally annoyed look. "Grell. I understand that this is a long trip to make with you injured, but we are almost there."

The Reaper sighed. "Sebastian? Why did you let Will go ahead of us? He's weak. What if he dies?"

"That won't happen!" Ciel answered sharply, turning back to look at him. "If William is anything like _you_, the apocalypse wouldn't slow him down."

The redhead's initial reaction was to look at the earl with ruffled feathers, feeling slightly insulted. But as the meaning of the words set in, he smiled softly to himself. "You're right…thank you, little earl."

"Don't call me that!"

"Young Master," Sebastian mercifully cut in the conversation that was guaranteed to soon rise in volume, "we are almost there. I can set you down here where it's safe. Would you like that?"

"Are you mad?" the boy snapped. "I'm coming with you!"

The butler looked hesitant, but the redhead caught the look on his face. "Just let him come. I understand the unsettled feeling he has right now. We really can't afford to leave anyone behind, lest we have a repeat of your friend's—"

"Verin was never a friend of mine. Get that straight!"

"Verin, then, his little visit from before."

"Agreed," Sebastian admitted. "So my master will accompany us all the way. But first," silently, he set the blue-eyed boy down and murmured something to him. Ciel's eyebrows rose, but he nodded and looked away, face slightly sour with dislike but acceptance.

Grell watched curiously as Sebastian led him a few feet back and silently, he leaned close.

"Grell. We've made it this far. Decora will not be pleased, if Vetis hears of his brother's death; he will be relentless, and Deumos is also very powerful. The chances still stand that we will not live to make it back to the mansion together."

Without thinking, the Death God reached up to gently stroke the demon's cheek. Their eyes met and held for several moments during which they were both absolutely silent. Grell's thumb continued to absentmindedly run across Sebastian's pale skin, and he nodded. "I know."

Again, no words were needed as they moved together to kiss tenderly. The smaller man emitted only a soft sigh as the demon's hands moved to grip his shoulders tightly and he in turn cupped Sebastian's face his both his hands. Their lips moved over each other, damp and warm and passionate, though the kiss was far from the feral and almost hungry way in which they normally exchanged feelings.

No tongues and no teeth, each man noted as they stepped closer, pressing against one another, it was actually quite nice to kiss innocently for a change. But there stilled loomed the truth; it all might end far too soon. The deadly wrath of Decora and the remains of her small but fierce army might still drag them down from their high.

"I love you," Grell less-than whispered against the ebony-haired man's cheek, nose nuzzling his own.

Sebastian stopped kissing him abruptly, running the heels of his palms over the round bumps of the Reaper's shoulders again and again. "I pray to whatever there remains alive to pray to that I don't lose you," he responded. It was sincere, but not very romantic.

"You could just say 'I love you too,'" he retorted sardonically, and stepped back. "Now then, saving Will? And stopping that evil monstrous whore who thinks she can claim you as her own?"

"Of course, _my lady_," equally sarcastic, he bowed to the redhead. Grell shook his head but smiled. They weren't arguing…they were _bantering_! What a glorious change. To him it seemed a big step anyway.

"Young Master," the butler spoke, bowing to the boy who had turned back to look at them (he appeared slightly green for reasons inconceivable to the god of death). "It's time we finish this." Ciel acquiesced with a nod of his head, and once the red-eyed man gathered him in his arms, and they took off at top speed once more, arriving at the heart of the great fallen city within minutes.

Sebastian seemed to know exactly where to go, and he immediately led them through the winding streets, darting past abandoned hansoms and through damp alleyways. On their way through one, a chimney above them shattered off the roof it was built on and tumbled towards them. The butler quickened his pace to get his master out of the way, but Grell smirked at the opportunity to flex his muscles once again, and severed it with his blade, sending bricks and cement in various directions.

"What caused that?" the boy demanded as the Reaper caught up to them once more.

"That!" he responded, pointing to the source of the disruption.

Deumos darted back and forth atop the roof, attempting to throw off about three young Death Gods. Unfortunately, she seemed to be winning. Although she repeatedly lunged out of the way as if to escape, she continuously turned back to face them, always managing to send the Dispatchers flying in various directions.

"No…Stamford…and Ellen too…"

"Grell. Focus. There's nothing we can do for them, it's Decora we're after." Ciel spoke firmly as the redhead's eyes drifted back even once they were far from the demon and her enemies.

"Young Master," Sebastian spoke after the two had fallen silent for several moments, "I can feel her from here. Such a hateful spirit is easy to sense…there." He stopped and pointed ahead. Around a corner, lying in the street right where he and Grell had left her to die. She was not visible from their angle yet, but all three of them seemed hesitant to face her.

Finally, Ciel moved, plucking his eye patch from his head so the mark of Contract glowed with iridescent luster. "Put me down, Sebastian. I'll make this simple for you so even Grell can comprehend—"

"Poooh, how rude of you! I—"

"Kill the demon known as Decora!"

The glow of his right eye became unnaturally bright, and Sebastian bowed, a smirk on his lips. "Yes, my Lord."

The three of them stepped forward, rounding the corner. Ciel's eyebrows shot up, Grell gasped audibly, and Sebastian only frowned blandly at the sight. Decora seemed to be healing just fine. She was sitting upright, propped against a dogcart, and before her stood an incensed Cresil.

"If you want to kill her, Sebastian, you're going to have to get through me to do it." He spoke, his long and silken silver hair blowing angrily in the wind and his eyes glimmering with hatred.

The addressed butler shrugged with nonchalance. "If that is what you wish, then I will kill you first with pleasure. I'm sure you don't mind being outnumbered? I understand that Grell is eager to avenge a few friends of his own."

As if in agreement, the Reaper revved his death-scythe and grinned, flashing his sharp teeth.

Cresil shrugged. "The death of yet another Reaper is of no consequence to me."

"Isn't he a dogged one?" Decora asked of the demon standing before her and death. There was no affection in her tone, but the smile on her face was one of amusement.

"Let's try and do this quickly, Grell," the dark-haired man said as he stepped forward slowly, "I don't want to splash blood anywhere; Young Master's suit jacket is brand new."

"Yes, my dearest Sebby!" he chirped.

"I'll shred you beyond recognition!" the silver-haired man roared, and with that the battle began.

_Urgh...not a very creative cliffhanger, is it? I apologize for that. Look for the conclusion of the battle in the next chapter! :D Any Sherlock Holmes fans out there? There were a few references in this chapter XD_

_As always, one big fat enormous THANK YOU! For reading this far. Let me know what you think! I hope to see you in the next chapter!_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Wow. I really have no excuse for why this has taken so long to update, but here it is. I can't say I'm happy with it, but I got it out. I apologize so much! So please, to those who are still out there, enjoy the climax!_

Disclaimer: I don't own Toboso Yana's wonderful Kuroshitsuji T^T

Ch. 11: The Howling

_The sun is rising,  
the screams have gone,  
too many have fallen.  
Few still stand tall.  
Is this the ending-  
of what we've begun?  
Will we remember…  
what we've done wrong?  
-The Howling, By Within Temptation _

It was funny. When Grell closed his eyes, he could remember when he first met Sebastian, whilst he was disguised as a clumsy butler bowing and apologizing before his mistress, Madame Red. He could remember his first night sleeping with Sebastian too, the heat of his body, the luster in his eyes, the husky tone of his voice. It was nice, he thought, to close his eyes and place himself in those situations, where he didn't know what was going to happen next.

Because when he opened his eyes, he could see all too well what was going to happen.

_Death._

Feathers were falling like a downpour around them, silver and black. It took the Reaper a moment to realize that they belonged to differed individuals. Sebastian's wings were black and Cresil's were silver. They lacked the beautiful sheen that Grell associated with the color, though. The silver wear that the black butler polished and served with at the Phantomhive manor was shiny and beautiful to look at. These feathers reminded him of the sky when it snowed: blank, empty…pointless, even.

There was simply no comparison between the two Hellions. Even as the mysterious feathers thickened in their downpour around the two, obstructing Grell and Ciel's view of them, Sebastian's voice rang out clear and cool.

"Young Master. You will forgive me for showing this form to you."

"You've broken quite a few rules recently, Sebastian," the boy responded with an air of resignation. There was maturity beyond his years in his tone at that moment, and he handed the butler privilege to do whatever it took to kill of the enemies before them.

Sebastian chuckled darkly in response and with the flap of a huge pair of ebony wings, the feathers cleared away to reveal the most lethal form of the demon.

Cresil finished his own transformation a moment later, his long hair flowing madly about him and his pupils catlike slits in his eyes, which glowed as bright as twin suns.

For all the preamble, it seemed that the two should race at each other with loud battle cries, the screams of Hell echoing around them as they shifted the earth's orbit with the sheer intensity of their hatred and dedication to the one they fought for. But when they moved, it was in the blink of an eye, not in slow motion. And save for a low chuckle from the black-haired man, both men were silent.

"I do so wish we could return to the way things were," Grell sighed, missing the days of Madame Red for the first time since he had slain her.

"I share your sentiment," Ciel said with a shrug. "But right now please focus on Sebastian and—"

"Boss Sutcliffe!"

The earl and the Reaper turned in surprise to see Ronald running towards them, eyes wide.

"You're alive! Thank goodness, Boss. Spears didn't lie."

"Oh, Ronnie!" The effeminate mad grabbed his friend's hand and squeezed it between his own. "So Will's alright? Who else is still alive?"

The young god's expression darkened. "Few. Some have even fled. All was well before Lady Sinclaire….I think she's…"

"That woman was one of the best we've got," Grell hissed in agitation. "Damn. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Spears wanted to fight Scotts alone. Can he win, Boss? Can he? Scotts is not on our side here—he's on his own side! I've seen terrible things, he…" he trailed off, searching for the right words. "Well look, if Spears wins, things'll return to normal, right?"

Grell struggled to find the reassurance he knew he should be offering, but found none. He wanted to escape. He wanted to cling to the butler's back while he fought, breathing in his scent and forgetting about the rest of the world.

Cresil screamed as Sebastian succeeded in twisting his wrist until his left hand was torn off.

Decora laughed and called out a taunt to rile him further.

This was insanity.

And, as if to add to the chaos, a body suddenly flew past the battle, forcing the demons apart. They both stopped and stared in utter amazement as the body crashed into the brick wall of a flower shop and rose almost instantly.

"William!" Grell was the first to react, terror freezing his blood in his veins as he saw blood pouring down his boss' face and several wounds on his body.

"Move, Sutcliffe," he responded, shoving past the two gaping Reapers. Rushing forward, he was hit straight-on by Scotts, who moved so fast he was almost a blur to untrained eyes. With a deafening crash, their scythes collided.

A deep purr of a laugh rumbled in Sebastian's throat. "I owe you both eternally, Young Master, Grell. For this little skirmish between Decora and myself seems to be an outright battle. I wonder who shall fall first?"

No one bothered to answer. The sound of blood splashing against cobblestones spoke for itself. There was passion in the fights, both of them. Take William and Scotts. On William's end, the whisper as his scythe cut through the air, the gentle taps as his rubber-soled leather oxfords touched the ground lightly every so often, and the click-like noise that occurred whenever a leather-gloved hand touched the edge of his spectacles softly, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose and temporarily blocking out his brilliant orbs behind a white glare as the light refracted off the glass. Each and every sound, and the subtle elegance with which they were carried out, bespoke of a protective air and indignant fury.

_You've put my underlings in danger._

_You've tried to take my honor and position in office._

_You disregarded the responsibility that comes with your job in order to serve your own self interest, in turn risking the balance between souls and the living, all for selfish want._

_And for that, you no longer deserve to live._

Then there was Scotts. The clear and resonating tone as the metal blades of his scythe worked, the swish of his formal suit jacket against the cotton dress shirt that clung to his powerful build, slightly damp with perspiration, the flinch-inducing crunch as he grit his teeth in anger, expressed utter loathing and desire to slay.

_You've stood in my way for years; you make us other Overseers look bad._

_You continue to protect that defect in your sector, yet are quick to point out other mistakes made by other Dispatchers._

_You've stood in my way for the last time, you scrawny, hypocritical, bastard._

_I'll take you down once and for all and become London's sole Overseer!_

Diagonal to them were Sebastian and Cresil.

The silver-haired man moved swiftly. With each dry scrape as his long nails sought wooden carts and boxes to hurl at his enemy, and with every wet slap as his tongue lolled out of his jaw to lap up blood that dripped down his head, even the scuffing sound as his huge wings grazed buildings in his occasional haste to move out of the way of an attack, the same rage of unrequited love was repeated over and over:

_You will die at Decora's feet._

_I will destroy every fiber of your being, and offer this world as a gift to her._

_And she will never look at anyone ever again, Sebastian Michaelis._

Out of the four of them, the most beautiful fighter was unquestionably the butler. He was surely the most magnificent with his ebony wings, pink eyes and flowing, shining hair. His heels echoed emptily against the stone ground, his wings flapped mightily, sending gusts of wind blowing before him. To fight, he used anything that lay before him in his path: shards of glass, plywood, crates, hansoms, and he also fought tooth and nail as was traditional for his kind. Most impressively, Sebastian used his own unique power to control flame, sending nearby fires flashing out towards his opponent whenever convenient. All in all, there was something unstoppable in his actions and style, and Grell noted this with a girlish satisfaction.

Of course, seeing that the butler survived was a close second in his mind. _Come on, Sebby. Just finish this._

Scotts was doing just that; whilst avoiding hurled objects from the demons, he was quickly wearing the dark-haired Reaper out, and William's attacks were becoming fewer and slower. It was simply too soon for him to be fighting again.

Though Grell's eyes were glued to Sebastian's back, Ronald watched with a sinking feeling as a punch here, a swing of the scythe there…all fell in Scotts' favor. The stoic man was losing too much blood, he was beginning to miscalculate his distance and speed of his weapon's trajectory.

"I do think it'd be best if you went with some dignity, Spears," the taller god sneered, suddenly leaping forward and knocking the green-eyed god beneath him. He raised his scythe high above his head, prepared to bring it down and into William's heart. "It suits your more. I'll make sure you're actually dead this time too."

"No! Mr. Spears!" Ronald's cry brought Grell to reality and he realized, looking up to see his friend rushing towards the two Overseers that he would be too late.

Suddenly: "Stop it!" and a clang.

The two Dispatchers looked in shock and horror to find the third Overseer of London had rushed over, and was holding her own scythe (styled like a weed-wacker that would give even the great redwood trees nightmares) against Scott's. She looked as though she had dragged herself out of a grave with her bun out and her hair falling around her face messily. She was dripping with blood from various wounds and her eyes were alight with fury.

"Mr. Scotts!"

"Sinclaire? I thought that demon—"

"You assume far too much. This time, you will actually pay for it." Moving like lightning, she pushed him back and off of William, and thrust her own scythe into his neck. A new shower of blood covered her as the thickset Reaper's jugular burst, staining the ground with hot red liquid. The only sound he made as he died was a low grunt, and then he fell, dead.

Seeing his boss suddenly murdered so effortlessly, Ronald fell to his knees. Grell could only gape while even Ciel turned from his servant to raise his eyebrows. Staggering, the woman struggled to maintain composure.

"You're alright, Mr. Spears?"

He rose unsteadily. "Yes…that was my fight though, Lady Sinclaire."

"Don't give me that," she snapped, turning and swaying for a brief second before standing tall once again. "He was out of line. Clearly, it was in the interest of all of London and Dispatch Management to assist you. A simple thank you would suffice."

He looked a bit stunned by her attitude (for of the three Overseers, Lady Sinclaire was known for her quietness), then nodded. "Forgive me. Thank you. Now three demons remain alive, and a fourth is working to fix that. I believe it is a female who lives still, named Deumos."

"Correct," she responded. "Knox, was it? You come with us to help. We'll round up any other survivors."

"What about me? Will don't be rude!" Grell cried.

"That isn't self-explanatory?" he asked, looking tired and exasperated. "You'll stay with that…vermin right there—" he motioned to Sebastian—"it's where you belong. Help him. I can trust you with that much, can't I?"

For a moment, they stared at each other as the others took off, leaping past the body of the Overseer who had so unceremoniously been terminated. It was loud between the roaring fires, the fight between the demons, and the Reapers taking off and heading east. Yet in Grell's mind, it was completely silent as he stared at his boss. (This may have been because it just seemed more dramatic that way, and he liked things dramatic and poetic.) Slowly, he nodded and turned from William, for his mind was made up. The black-haired man's words were binary, and there was an order slipped in there cleverly.

In the midst of a war, he figured it might be a good time to start obeying those orders.

Seeing that his ambiguous words had been understood, the wounded Overseer took off to join the others and find anyone in need of help. _This is ending_, he told himself as he followed the spiritual pressure of Ronald and Sinclaire to find them. _So why do I feel so unsettled?_

Cresil managed to throw Sebastian off a rooftop at that moment, and the demon hit the ground roughly, rising and finding his eyes snagging on William's. Their gaze was a brief, exploratory one. Curious and distant at the same time. And then it was broken as the fight started up again and the green-eyed man continued to travel eastward. _That's why. _He was putting trust in a demon. He could pray for the best all he liked, but there was still an underlying sense of distrust.

A single un-tuned string could make the most beautiful violin symphony a painful cacophony.

"It looks like all the other children are cleaning up their toys," the silver-haired demon noted with a grin. "Perhaps we should do the same. Playtime's over."

"You _would_ say something like that," Sebastian sighed as though it was a shame. "Nonetheless, I do agree. I'm tired of playing tag with you," he lunged and managed to tear at the other man's leg, attempting to dislocate his knee.

Cresil hissed in anger and responded with equal strength.

A few yards off, Decora watched them, beginning to grow bored. She sighed daintily and crossed on leg over the other, straightening her back slightly. In just a little while if she continued resting, she knew she would have her strength back. By then, Sebastian would no doubt have killed that hindrance Cresil, and she could fight him back into submission. Returning to Hell together was not something she was overly thrilled with, but they would not be so foolish the next time. They would be prepared when the returned to Earth…they would win…

She froze as she sensed something suddenly appear behind her, and didn't dare turn at the unexpected feel of cold metal against her throat.

"_Sebastian_!"

Both demons froze; Cresil had pinned Sebastian against the wall of a building and was attempting to rip into him and yank out his spine. The silver-haired demon froze, however at the sight of Grell standing behind Decora, his scythe poised down and resting over her shoulder.

"I get it now. I can't just stand aside and let you do this. That's not me." His lips curved up, teeth gleaming. "You know how attached I am to the color red. Please let me draw it out one last time, just for you! And also…everyone needs me to finally do something right. Helping you might be the one thing I can actually do."

"No," the woman whispered, unbelieving. But her voice was drowned out as the machine came to life, motor rumbling loudly and blade spinning. It was useless for her to struggle; he had managed to conceal his spiritual pressure long enough to sneak up on her, and she was aware of the disadvantage. It was not her way to die struggling and screaming.

In Decora's mind, anyway, she was the epitome of dignity.

Of course, there really wasn't much to be dignified about as the blade came down, around the space between her neck and shoulder and through to her heart. Her seated body slumped as her soul was ripped forcefully from her, her Cinematic Record played before Grell's eyes, and she became the empty shell of ambition quite beautifully, though rather simply.

_Bloodshed, hatred, different levels of Hell, and a certain dark-haired demon…_

Grell had never actually slain a demon before, but the Record was about what he had expected; he would have nightmares for months after viewing the rings of Hell, but it had all been brought up to Earth recently anyway; he felt it made no difference.

"Well, how anticlimactic," he murmured, plucking the saw's bloodied end from her torso and stepping back to stare at the demons.

"D…Decora…" Cresil looked in terror at the body of the woman he had so admired and wanted. "Why you—"

"Too late," Sebastian cooed, swinging his clawed hand back and then thrusting it into the silver-haired man's ribcage. He choked and gasped as his own heart was ripped from his chest. The black-haired man didn't have the power Grell did; the blow was not fatal immediately as was one from a death scythe, for his soul began to leak slowly from his physical form. "Here you are," he spoke softly but remorselessly.

Turning, he tossed the still heart onto the bloodied body of Decora.

"She finally has your heart. You are familiar with that human expression, I presume?"

Cresil thrashed uselessly in his enemy's arms, trying to fight back. After a few moments, he became too weak, and simply collapsed, drawing jagged breaths as he died. With a few muttered incantations, Sebastian created a small rip out of the air itself that opened to Hell. Without a second glance, he threw the body of the silver-haired man into it.

"Decora as well." He said, causing Grell, who had been staring in shock at his own accomplishment, to jump and then obey, gathering her corpse and the heart that rested upon her chest, and leaping over to the butler to drop them in.

"Just like that, all our troubles are gone?" he whispered as the red-eyed man chanted briefly, sealing the portal shut.

He shook his head, turning to face Grell slowly. "That much I severely doubt. You truly do have a simple mind."

"It's called optimism, Sebby," he retorted, but there was something, perhaps the phantom of a smile upon his lips, though it just as easily could have been the lighting.

"Is it? And when have you ever wanted to talk so much on an occasion when you simply could demand a kiss?" he smirked, stepping forward.

"I could demand a kiss? Sebastian, quit dawdling!" he snapped, closing the gap between them eagerly.

Fire and ice met in that kiss, and any follower of Robert Frost would know just how destructive each could be in its own right. The kiss spoke for itself as Sebastian slipped his hands around the Reaper's back, and he in turn clung to his shoulders.

An end was in sight, however unclear it was.

_A/N: ...-_- I hate how they just died all casual-like. I was happy with Scott's death; I don't feel he deserved anything dramatic, and wanted his own shortsightedness to kill him. But Cresil and Decora...meh. Also, Robert Frost's "Fire and Ice" wasn't published for about another 30 years after this takes place, I know, but the poem came to my head as I was typing this. I could put it at the beginning of the next chapter if anyone's interested :)_

_As I said, I'm not happy with it AT ALL, but let me know what you think. If you're reading this, thank you for reading so far! *bows* I hope to hear what you think, and see you in the next chapter where we can finally have a bit more romance ;)_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: NO, I did NOT abandon this. All I can say is this: I'm really sorry. Things have gotten out of control between my sister and my dad recently, and since October I've been well-aquainted with three different hospitals in two different counties. I can fortunately say that my sister fine and my dad is slowly recovering from some dicey surgery, and I have finally had time to update this._

_Sorry it's short, but I don't want to draw it out anymore and risk NEVER finishing it, so it's quick and you don't have to like it, but here it is!_

_Thank you for those who've stayed with me, and a huge shoutout to faithful reviewers! Ari Rue, Madame Stephanie, Aikenova, LovelyWickedDescet, and Jennypen, thank you all for support, criticism, making my smile like a fool and making me glad that I updated at times when I was dubious. THANKS SO MUCH TO ALL REVIEWERS! Now please enjoy the end :) Sorry again that I've kept you waiting._

Disclaimer: I temporarily kidnapped Knoxie, but Toboso still wouldn't give me Kuroshitsuji ;)

Ch. 12: So Sorry (Your World is Tumbling Down)

No matter where he went, no matter what hot, humid crevice in the earth he stumbled to, he could not escape the white noise; it was a constant bombardment of gunfire and screams and fires crackling and madmen laughing and his own pounding heart—maddening, maddening!

_I'm going to go insane if I don't get away…_

And suddenly there was another noise. Amid the migraine-inducing cacophony, his ears were able to discern one sound above all the others. It was broken, breathy groaning. Whoever the source was, he or she was surely dying, none-too pleasantly too. Tripping frequently, he managed to make his way around some boulders and find a tall, black-clad man, doubled over. Fear coursing through his veins, he had the nerve to reach out and offer a hand to the suffering individual.

"Hey…do you need some help…?"

The man jerked up, revealing Sebastian's face. Or, what had once been. Half of his lower mandible was missing, both eyes had been gauged out, and tufts of hair had been ripped away, bringing the flesh of his scalp with them. Gaping holes in his body leaked blackish-colored blood, and he reached out, as if to take the hand offered to him, his own fingers bent and the nails torn off the fingers. "Young Master…" he gasped, blood leaking out from between his lips as he spoke, and his tongue slipping out of his mouth through the space where his jaw had once been, "unng…why don't you help me…?"

Ciel Phantomhive woke up, screaming. His throat burned with the exertion of completely emptying his lungs in a frantic attempt to regain sanity, and his arms flailed as though he were being exorcised.

"Young Master! Young Master!" It was Sebastian's voice! Miserable, dying Sebastian was calling for him in Hell again!

"No! No! No!" Desperately, he thrashed against his…his…his bed sheets? Opening his eyes, he beheld his familiar bedroom, sunlight streaming in through the window and a perfectly docile-looking Sebastian peering down at him, quite in one piece. Breathing heavily and suddenly feeling a little embarrassed, he sat up and straightened his mussed hair. "Ah. Sebastian. Good morning."

The butler looked bemused by his sudden attempt at dissimilation. "You're expected to have vivid night terrors for quite some time, sir. It's completely normal and you needn't be ashamed. Nonetheless, to calm your nerves, I have prepared some lavender and vanilla chai tea, made with milk. And as a form of reconciliation," he placed a silver platter before the boy, "French toast with homemade whipped cream and powdered sugar. I figured something to sate your sweet tooth might settle you and convince you that I'm here to stay until you draw your last breath."

It had been a while since he had actually eaten anything, and Ciel's stomach gave a loud growl of excitement, which only embarrassed him further. "Erm…thank you. Is the mansion clean yet?" he added, remembering with a shudder the state it had been in a day earlier.

"How could I consider myself a Phantomhive butler if I could not manage such a simple task?" he queried with a reassuring smile. "The entire house is clean as a whistle, save for the kitchen where Bard is preparing lunch already and foregoing the hard work I put in to clean it last night. Finny is working the grounds a bit, and Maylene is in town selecting some new furniture for the rooms that were damaged beyond repair. Everything is running smoothly, and I thought you might be interested in reading this—" he dropped a newspaper onto the Ciel's lap. "A full account of everything that occurred yesterday."

"Full account?" the blue-eyed boy cried, grabbing the paper violently:

_DIVINE INTERVENTION, _(it read) _HELL BREAKS LOOSE IN LONDON:_

_London was nearly uprooted yesterday, May 23__rd__, as Hellish monsters broke loose and began to destroy the city. Families fled in terror as what appeared to be "winged men with glowing eyes" came out of nowhere and began destroying buildings and hansoms. A mere 45 are actually dead and 408 still missing, but this can only be expected as thousands fled the heart of the city yesterday with little more than loved ones and the shirts off their backs. Even the elite Scotland Yard felt there was nothing that could be done. Strangely enough, when they returned with reinforcements that night, the chaos had not spread, and is estimated to only have reached about a two mile radius. Furthermore, there was nothing there when the men returned, save for a strange symbol about five by five meters scraped into the ground. Local Parish, Father Wilde claims that it is a sign from God that He sent angels to protect the city, and that it was He who put the fires out and banished the monsters away—"_

"You call these facts?" he scoffed. "It's sensational rubbish."

"There's no way we could have covered it simply with so many witnesses, so the mark was left by the Reapers as they helped me clean up last night; it was Knox's idea. Everyone will buy into it being an apocalyptic disaster averted provided we keep leaving clues suggesting it as such. Scientists won't be pleased, but I think we can rest assured that they are a minority here." Sebastian sufficed concisely. "The entire paper is dedicated to various explanations and accounts, but the center of London is truly almost back to normal, so people are already returning. Shall I leave you to read?"

"Off to see the idiot, then?"

"…Young Master?"

"I didn't object, no." he said with a significant look.

"Yes, sir," he murmured with a faint smile and a polite bow. With that, he hurried to one of the guest rooms and knocked lightly, receiving a quiet "come in" as a welcome. When he entered, Grell was sitting in the window sill looking down at the grounds in an almost disbelieving stupor.

"You remember the training I attempted to give you back in the days of Madame Red when you were disguised as a butler yourself. Pretend it's like that again, great actress that you are. But the arrangements can be permanent providing you don't break anything or slack on work in your own world. I really don't think I can handle many visits from Spears. Do I make myself clear?"

"As an un-muddied lake, Sebby."

Sitting down beside the redhead, he raised an eyebrow. "So shouldn't you be happy?"

"Hm…" he pouted and considered this. "Now you be the actress, Sebby. If you were in my position, would you believe your luck?"

"It's not as if I've proclaimed my love to you or anything," he commented wryly.

Grell flinched visibly at the words, as though they carried an electric wave with them that drove straight down the spine of anyone they were addressed to. "You have not. But still—you aren't using me for sex anymore either."

"No. But I would call this infatuation with you before I would call it romantic," he spoke as he adjusted his white gloves, pausing to look at the Reaper's face; it was often difficult to judge what he was thinking and feeling based on his tone alone. Unfortunately, as he was quickly learning, Grell's facial expressions were often simply masks to what he was really thinking. At the moment, he looked rather placid, and sounded philosophical, though the demon's last comment warranted a tired smile.

"Being in love with you is going to be trying."

"Are you whining already?"

"Well the staff is terrible around here; I haven't even been served breakfast in bed yet, like I know a certain brat was!" he gave the black-haired man a petulant look.

"If you're hungry, you can get fix up a repast yourself. I only serve my master," he tried to speak sternly, but a fond smile kept tugging at his lips despite his best efforts. In an affectionate and very un-Sebastian-like fashion, he reached out to ruffle the hair of the Death God, who in a typical spur-of-the-moment flush of romanticism decided that he was done worrying about things, and latched onto the butler bodily.

"Ooh, Sebby~" and suddenly a pair of very hungry lips were pressing against Sebastian's. He wasn't about to deny that in lieu of all that had happened, he was a bit wired and in need of an outlet. But there was also a mound of chores to do, and also servants to order about.

"Grell, this is what nighttime is for," he grumbled into his new lover's cheek as the redhead kissed along his jaw line. Oh, god, he wasn't just kissing, he was downright _mouthing_ at him, like he was something to be _devoured…_ "Grell, no. Stop. That's a bad Grell—nn, there…yes…" So his ears were sensitive, what was wrong with that? He was still in complete control. Complete.

In two clumsy steps, they were standing astride the bed, and with a bit of maneuvering, they were atop it, Grell laying flush against Sebastian and rubbing his hips against the demon's while his hands worshipped his slender neck. "Won't wait 'till nighttime," he crooned, lathing Sebastian's flesh with his hot, damp tongue. "I need you now. Only you can reach into all those deep places…_oh! _I need to feel you, Sebastiaaan," Did he practice those little cries in front of a mirror?

Unable to contain himself, the butler leaned up to kiss the Reaper's face and to run his hands over his hips and along the curves of his thighs. Their hips were rubbing roughly against each other, creating beautiful friction and for the life of him, Sebastian knew there was no way in hell (_ha,_ he thought with dry humor, _Hell._) that he could stop now. Nor did he want to.

It wasn't particularly difficult to reverse their positions, especially since Grell preferred for Sebastian to take over, to press against him, to pull impatiently at his clothing, so desperately desiring to know what was beneath…He wondered absentmindedly how many new sets of clothes he would need to buy, and what they were going to cost him with a demon for a lover; if worst came to worst, he had no problem resorting to wearing Madame Red's old clothes.

Amazingly, feeling the black-haired man shift inside of him mere minutes later didn't scare him as he thought it might. After all, they had nearly killed one another mere hours ago, and yet forgiveness was a strange thing, and there they were, making love like a newly-married couple might in the morning light. But with a breathy: "Oh, _yes…_" he only held him tighter, _his _Sebastian, and smiled blissfully.

The springs of the mattress creaked slightly, as if resentful of the passionate activity occurring at such an hour. Neither man minded though. In fact, the shifting of the bed beneath them with every thrust only increased the desire for more. The light banter they had exchanged was replaced for only occasional gasps and whines, a stray "harder, _please_" and one "you look so lovely this way."

By the end of it, one of Grell's legs had been slung over Sebastian's shoulder, and the butler had made it his goal to kiss every inch of skin on the Reaper's body before he climaxed. The notion of being entirely covered in Sebastian's lips was enough to send him over the edge, however, and he clawed the bed sheets, uncoiling with more composure than in their previous nights together. The demon smiled and allowed himself to come undone as well, planting a final kiss on his hipbone before pulling away gently. He had not accomplished his goal of kissing everywhere, but he rather liked the idea of having it as a goal to strive for, to be able to take it so slow that he could completely consume Grell one night before bringing him.

"You were right when you said that loving me would be trying, but I'll make it worth your while," he promised with a small smile. "In return, make me want to love you as well. Deal?"

If the kiss he received then wasn't a glimpse into Paradise, Sebastian was sure he never wanted to see it.

It was much later in the day that Ciel got up the strength to venture into town in a carriage, accompanied by his loyal butler, and his new effeminate one. Town was indeed, remarkably well-cleaned. Most of the shops that had been destroyed and aflame previously were now being gutted, and the Queen would be proud to see how resilient her people were, already hard at work cleaning up and re-painting, though some simply looked around with fear in their eyes as though they expected to see the demons return.

Sebastian stopped and helped Ciel down outside a toy shop where his toys were sold, and which had been destroyed in the battles from yesterday. He received an earful for not helping "his lady" down as well, but this he accepted with a chuckle and a kiss over the eyelid in recompense.

"I'll tame you yet, naughty Sebas."

"Those nicknames will certainly do _something_ to me, I don't know about taming me though."

"Hey, you lovebirds, ya gonna help clean up this shop, or what?"

Both men jerked up to see a very familiar young man standing before them, dressed as a laborer.

"Ronnie?"

"He~ey," he winked childishly. "I was sent by a certain suit-sporting birdie to supervise cleanup and make sure everything goes well. That alright with you? And might I recommend you at least make it look like you're working for the little tyke's sake?" he motioned to Ciel, who was speaking to the shop keeper, with his thumb.

"Does that mean things are alright back home?" Grell demanded to know.

"Well those that survived are alright," he answered with a shrug. "Tonight we're holding a mass funeral for those who were lost. Will you be there?"

The redhead nodded grimly. "Then what?"

"Then Spears makes everything alright, I guess," he mused. "Our troubles aren't exactly over, but if we don't start moving forward and fixing our mistakes, they never will be."

"How prophetic of you," Sebastian offered, "but now you're slacking as well. Let's all get to work so that Funtom can get the children of London through their hardships."

"Yes!"

"Oh, you're so romantic when you're focused!"

Sebastian only chuckled and led his god of death into the small store. Their shoes crushed small pieces of glass and fragments of toys, such as the coveted Peter Rabbit, beneath them. But it was alright. The demon's head was already churning with new ideas to provide the Phantomhive earl with. And Grell's fingers were interlaced with his own; he liked to imagine their heartbeats were harmonious as well, but didn't want to seem too sappy. This was a Reaper, after all. Give him an inch of romanticism, and he'd demand a rose garden.

_TEH ENDUH._

_Woo hope you liked :) Sorry if you didn't; obviously the flow was a bit interrupted. Nonetheless, I like to think that Sebby and Grell got on capitally and had many romantic adventures much to the dismay of a grumpy Bocchan, haha. Thank you for reading, let me know what you think if you like, (not that I really feel you're responsible for that at this point XD) and happy reading wherever you go. Keep supporting Sebastian, the Death Gods, and Earl Phantomhive through the manga and the anime (it came out in English the 11th of January) ^^ bye!_

_~aya_


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